


This Burden Came To Me

by catrasredemption (dimensionhoppingrose)



Series: Magicatra AU [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, F/F, Force Captain Adora, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magicatra AU, Romance, Some Fluff, The portal gets crazy, catra is she-ra, season four, season three, things get crazy man, who's ready, yes romance!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 47,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27901582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimensionhoppingrose/pseuds/catrasredemption
Summary: -Magicatra AU, Season Three, Four (sequel to This Is My Kingdom Come)-Catra's search for answers becomes even more complicated by the appearance of Shadow Weaver in Bright Moon - the person who holds the key to Catra's past.Adora, exiled to the Crimson Waste after Shadow Weaver betrays her, finds herself on her own journey to stay alive.Uneasy alliances are formed, friendships are tested, and mistakes are made, which will follow everyone for a long, long time.-Season Three Complete--Season Four In-Progress-
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora & Scorpia (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Angella & Catra (She-Ra), Bow & Catra & Glimmer (She-ra), Bow & Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Glimmer (She-Ra)
Series: Magicatra AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954912
Comments: 339
Kudos: 463





	1. Answers, Questions

**Author's Note:**

> Who's ready? I'm ready! Let's goooooooooooooooo

_She stares up at the giant mural, clutching an old and well-loved teddy bear to her chest. The adults are talking behind her — every now and again she’ll hear words like “impossible” and “too young” and “must be another”, and her ears will twitch, but she isn’t paying attention…_

Someone is watching her.

Catra slowly wakes up without opening her eyes, sensing the other presence in the room with her. _Smelling_ it. It’s familiar. Why does it smell so familiar? Why does she taste something bitter in the back of her throat? Something sharp and cold and electrifying and—

 _Oh_.

She’s up in the time it takes to blink, her fist slamming into Shadow Weaver’s mask with a satisfying _crack_. The sorceress has certainly seen better days, she thinks as she stands over the heap of red robes, before grabbing her and slamming her into the wall. Her mask is cracked, the red gem that had been in the middle of her forehead gone. Catra has a million questions. She can only vocalize one.

“What the _fuck_ do you want?”

* * *

“She was watching you sleep? That’s so _creepy_.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of her M.O.”

Catra, Glimmer, and Bow are at the end of the hall, watching Castaspella and Angella talk outside of Shadow Weaver’s “prison” room. Angella is talking about guards, about tripling the patrol around the perimeter, trying to figure out how she got in…

“She used magic to get here,” Catra mutters. She’s sitting against the wall, one leg drawn up to her chest. “Adding more guards onto a patrol isn’t going to help.”

“What do you think she _wants_?” Glimmer asks. “Is she trying to like, infiltrate the castle or something?”

_“Shadow Weaver’s out of commission.”_

Catra shakes her head. “No. Adora made it sound like Shadow Weaver isn’t really part of the picture anymore. Also, the bitch has never done any of her own dirty work. That’s what her precious force captains are for.”

“And you don’t think maybe Adora lied?” Bow asks slowly.

“Adora can’t lie to save her life.” _Or mine, for that matter_. “And Shadow Weaver wasn’t looking too great. Not to mention she let me get the drop on her out of a dead sleep. _Something_ is going on. I don’t think it has anything to do with the Horde, though.”

Shadow Weaver only cares about herself, after all. She wouldn’t be here, putting herself in danger, if she had any other way of going about things.

Catra pushes herself up, starting down the hall toward the two women. Castaspella stops talking, eyeing her warily, and Angella turns.

She speaks before Catra can even open her mouth. “No.”

“ _What_?” Catra demands. “You can’t be serious.”

“You’re not talking to her, Catra.”

“She _tortured_ me! I think I can handle a conversation!”

“Do you want to give her a chance to torture you again?” Castaspella asks quietly. Catra grimaces, hesitating.

“Let us handle this.” Angella takes advantage of the silence. “It’s okay for you to step away from this.”

“What if I don’t _want_ to step away from this? I’ve earned a chance to look her in the eye and demand answers, haven’t I?”

“Maybe they’re right,” Glimmer speaks up. “You do get kind of… emotional when it comes to her.”

Catra holds Angella’s gaze without blinking. The queen hesitates for a moment before nodding. “One chance, Catra.”

She smiles grimly. “That’s all I need, your majesty.”

The guard opens the door, allowing Catra to step in, flanked by Angella and Castaspella.

“Catra.” Shadow Weaver’s twisted smile is audible in her voice. “How nice of you to visit.”

“I thought I owed you some good hospitality considering how well you and Adora treated me after the Princess Prom.” Catra crosses the room in several long strides, crouching so she’s eye to eye with the woman. “Speaking of Adora, she the one who put that crack in your face? Unfortunate for your mask, but still better than what it’s hiding.”

Shadow Weaver chuckles humorlessly. “Using wit to cover your fears. You truly haven’t changed.”

Catra smirks back. “But _you_ have. Did your favorite good girl finally figure out your bullshit and turn on you?”

“Your bad habits were bound to wear off on her eventually.”

“Oh no,” Catra says, holding up a hand. “Nuh uh, you don’t get to blame Adora’s mistakes on me this time. _I’ve_ been gone for a year. You’re the only one who’s been around to fuck with her. So what was the tipping point? What _finally_ drove her over the edge after like nineteen years of your crap?”

No answer. Catra has to struggle to keep from being too smug. She doesn’t need to know _why_ Adora turned on Shadow Weaver. She just needs to know she’s right. And the silence confirms everything. “About time she finally got some common sense.”

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A smile quirks at Catra’s lips. “A little, yeah. It’s about damn time the universe threw me a bone, and you as our prisoner is pretty great.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Shadow Weaver says coldly. “I came here of my own will. You didn’t capture me.”

“And yet you’re still in our…” She looks around, grimacing. “I guess _prison_ is a bit generous.”

She hears Angella sigh faintly at the slight dig. Shadow Weaver’s eyes narrow. “I wouldn’t be here at all if you could manage to be a more competent hero.”

 _That_ gets a reaction. Catra’s ears twitch, her jaw clenching. “And what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“You’re _She-Ra_ , aren’t you?” Shadow Weaver’s voice is filled with contempt. “It’s _your_ job to stop the Horde and save Etheria. And yet, Adora’s made more progress as a force captain than you can with magic on your side.” Catra’s fingers curl into fists. “You couldn’t even rally the princesses properly. One of them turned to the Horde to—”

“Shut _up_!” Catra growls, immediately straightening up to stand over Shadow Weaver.

“And there’s the anger. Have your little friends ever seen one of your temper tantrums?”

Angella grabs Catra’s shoulder, gently pulling her back before she can take a swing at the sorceress. “A break, perhaps,” she suggests, taking Catra by the arm and leading her out of the room. Castaspella glares at Shadow Weaver before closing the door. “It may be best to leave the questioning to us,” the queen says, already knowing the answer.

“Let me hit her a few times, I’m sure I’ll get _somewhere_ ,” Catra says darkly.

“ _You_ need to stand back,” Angella says firmly. “Go back to bed. Get a few more hours of sleep.”

“And _what_ , go for a walk when I wake up?” Catra shoots back. “I can’t _sleep_ knowing she’s here! And we still don’t know what she wants! She wouldn’t just turn herself over, she’s planning _something_!”

“And _we_ will find out what. _You_ will find something else to occupy your time.”

“But—”

“That is an order, Catra.” Her ears go flat against her head, her gaze reproachful. She respects Angella, but she’s not about to let this go. “I will be posting guards at either end of the hall, and at the doors. All three of you are banned from this corridor.”

Glimmer knows that voice. “Come on, Catra.” She takes her friend’s hand, tugging lightly. “Mom and Aunt Casta can handle this.”

Catra lets herself be pulled away, her breathing very deliberately slow, until she knows they’re out of earshot; then she yanks her hand back and slams her fist into the wall. “Hey, don’t break yourself,” Bow protests.

“I need a punching bag or something,” Catra says, kicking the wall half-heartedly. “Show her a fucking _temper tantrum_ …”

* * *

Adora gasps, shooting up. It takes her blurry vision a moment to focus, to take in her settings. Green walls with marks carved into them. Cuffs around her hands.

 _The prison block_.

She sighs, slumping against the wall, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. _Okay. This is a mess. But I can fix it_.

Could she? Of course she could. She could fix anything. She…

She is so utterly and entirely _screwed_.

Adora stares at the ceiling for a long moment, turning everything over in her head. She had done everything right, hadn’t she? She’d brought Hordak the things he wanted, she had gone up against the Rebellion and sure, she hadn’t _won_ , but she had made it further than Shadow Weaver ever did. She had proved her worth.

And of course, it all went wrong. Of _course_ it did. Because she’d let Shadow Weaver get in her head. Again.

When is she going to stop doing that?

“Adora!”

She jumps, surprised, as Scorpia’s voice echoes through the cell block. Not one for stealth missions, clearly. “Adora, where — oh!” She stops in front of Adora’s cell. “There you are. Thank goodness. We need to get you out of here.”

“Wait, what? Why? How did you even get in here?”

“Oh, it was super stealthy,” Scorpia assures her. She highly doubts that. “Hordak’s called an assembly. To witness your punishment.” She frowns, hitting a button again. “Wow, these buttons are really small.”

“Okay, okay, slow down,” Adora says quickly. She’s not getting involved in any more jailbreaks. Not even her own. “It’s a bit late to say let’s not do anything stupid, but—”

“Getting you out of here isn’t stupid,” Scorpia insists. “Look, when Hordak calls assemblies… it’s bad, okay? He wants an audience to see him kill you.”

Adora slumps against the wall, sighing. “Maybe he’ll make it quick.”

“Don’t say that!” Scorpia’s voice echoes through the prison block. Adora frowns at her.

“What do you care?”

The look Scorpia gives her is almost scandalized. “You’re my _friend_. I want to protect you.”

Adora softens for the slightest moment. She thinks Catra would like Scorpia, minus incessant hugging. Then she remembers how she ended up here.

“Forget it, Scorpia. This isn’t worth it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ breaking out isn’t going to work. Where would I even go?” Her entire life has always been the Horde.

“We’ll figure it out—”

“There _is_ no we. There’s me. Just me.” Just Adora. Alone. Again.

“That’s not—”

Adora raises her voice to yell, “Guards!” while looking Scorpia square in the eye. They stare at each other for a long moment before Scorpia reluctantly backs away and hurries off, leaving Adora behind.

* * *

“This isn’t working, and she’s getting worse—”

“Getting worse how?”

Castaspella and Angella jump, whirling to see Catra standing behind them, arms folded. Bow and Glimmer appear behind her a moment later.

“ _How_ is she faster than your teleporting?” Angella asks in disbelief.

“I scaled the castle,” Catra replies flatly. “Worse _how_?”

“I told you to let us take care of it—”

“And Castaspella just said it isn’t working,” Catra cuts in. Angella takes a deep breath. Catra knows a ‘you’re testing my patience’ expression when she sees one. “I know something’s wrong with her. Did she say what, at least?”

“No,” Castaspella says quietly. “But the worse it gets, the less I believe we’ll be able to treat it.”

“Why wouldn’t she just say what’s wrong?” Bow asks, frowning. “I mean, she probably came here for help, didn’t she?”

“She’s a vindictive bitch and would die just to spite a person,” Catra says.

“Not… quite how I would have put it,” Angella says, “but that is the basic gist of it, I believe. She wants to talk to you.”

“Oh, perfect then, let’s go.” Angella rests a hand on Catra’s shoulder to stop her. “ _What_?”

“You can’t keep your temper in check in with her.”

Catra grits her teeth. “I highly doubt she expects me to play nice.”

“That’s not the point.”

“We’re trying to protect you,” Glimmer speaks up. “Why can’t you let us do that?”

“Because that doesn’t _matter_ right now! She’s _here_ , and we need to get answers out of her before she—” Catra stops, blinking a few times. “Oh.”

“What?” Angella asks sharply. Catra’s expression darkens.

“Just give me one more chance.” Pleading eyes met Angella’s. “ _Please_?”

She won’t rest until she gets what she wants, and they all know it. “One more chance,” Angella finally gives in. Catra takes a step passed her, into the room.

“You’re dying.”

Shadow Weaver looks up at her former ward, who’s glaring at her with pure contempt. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You want She-Ra to heal you.”

The sorceress chuckles. Catra watches in disgusts as shadows practically drip off her frazzled form. “You could have been so much more. Instead you’re a walking pile of wasted potential—”

“Wow, you’re the _worst_ at asking for a favor.”

“I would never ask _you_ for a favor. I’m looking for a fair trade.”

Catra scoffs. “ _Really_. You think you have something that’s equal to me saving your life after the shit you put me through?”

“I have information. About the Horde, and Hordak’s plans. And about _you_.”

Catra’s ears twitch, her shoulders falling just slightly. She can feel the others behind her, watching her. “What do you know?”

“That’s a bit of a broad question, isn’t it? I know a lot of things—”

“If you want help, then tell me the truth,” Catra snaps, fists clenching. “I’m not playing your fucking mind games anymore.”

Shadow Weaver coughs even as she laughs. “You won’t let me die. You need me if you want answers.”

“You _really_ want to put your life on the line of how much I hate you versus how much I want to know things? I can find answers anywhere if I look hard enough. _You_ can only find one person to help you.”

They glare at each other for a long moment. “That’s the problem, though, isn’t it?” Shadow Weaver finally says. “There’s nowhere else to find the one answer you really want.”

“Oh yeah? Do tell, what do you think I _really_ want to know?”

“Where you come from, of course.” Catra’s entire facade falls. “You want to know how I got the mask, don’t you? How _you_ ended up in the Fright Zone?”

Catra’s fists clench to keep her fingers from trembling. “Tell me.”

“Heal me first.”

“Bullshit,” Catra snaps. “You’ll get what you want, and then turn on us.”

“In case it’s slipped your notice, I’m _powerless_. I have nothing to gain by lying to or tricking you,” Shadow Weaver says. “Hordak has cast me aside. Adora betrayed me. I have nowhere else to go.”

“Save me your sob story.”

“It’s not a story, it’s simply a fact. Just as it’s a fact that if you let me die, you’ll never know the truth about yourself. Are you willing to risk that information for your own, stubborn pride?”

There’s a blur of red and gold, then a clattering noise as Catra slams Shadow Weaver into a wall, and her mask falls to the stone floor. Several horrified gasps echo behind Catra as she looks her abuser dead in the eye. One hand is clenched around the front of Shadow Weaver’s robes, the other pulled back, claws extended, ready to slice her neck open. Shadow Weaver laughs and coughs breathlessly.

“Will you put me out of my misery yourself, then?”

A very tense moment of silence follows. Glimmer is pretty sure she can teleport across the room and pull Catra away before she kills Shadow Weaver. But she’s not one-hundred percent certain.

Catra jerks Shadow Weaver away from the wall and turns, shoving her back into the blue column of the magical prison. She wordlessy kicks the mask back to the sorceress, then taps the keychain on her belt, summoning the sword.

“Teach me how to heal you, and tell me the truth,” she says through gritted teeth. “That’s the deal.”

“Catra,” Angella starts to protest.

“I don’t think this is the best idea—”

“That’s the deal,” Shadow Weaver agrees dryly. Catra keeps her eyes locked on her even as she raises the sword.

“For the honor of Grayskull.”

Hesitant silence falls as Catra transforms, now hovering almost intimidatingly over Shadow Weaver. “Catra,” Bow speaks up. “Are you sure this is okay?”

She doesn’t take her gaze away from Shadow Weaver as she lowers the sword. “Teach me how to heal you.”

Shadow Weaver looks up at her, face hidden under her mask once more. “You must channel your energy through the Runestone _without_ losing your temper or growing angry. Your emotions have always been your downfall, Catra.”

Catra closes her eyes to block out the sight of the woman, blowing out a breath and focusing on the energy thrumming through the sword. “Healing requires calm. Peace. Center yourself.”

Calm. Catra takes a deep breath, remembering some of the meditation techniques Perfuma has taught her. Center herself. Focus on something that makes her happy. She thinks about the feeling of being crushed in loving hugs, of Angella’s warm hands on her shoulders as she kisses her forehead, even the echoes of children laughing as they chase each other up and down the dark halls of the Fright Zone, creating fun in a world where none was meant to exist…

She’s calm. She starts to glow. She opens her eyes, watching the energy swirl around her, and raises the sword, pressing the tip to Shadow Weaver’s chest. There’s a wild moment of panic where they’re all concerned she’s just going to run the sorceress through…

But then the golden light extends to Shadow Weaver, enveloping her. Catra is disgusted with herself as soon as she knows the woman is healed; she pulls back and de-transforms, kneeling so she’s eye to eye with Shadow Weaver. The person who raised her. The person who relentlessly abused her.

“Tell. Me. The. Truth.”

Shadow Weaver is silent for a long moment. “The First Ones tried to write the magicats out of the history, you know. They never wanted anyone to know about their contributions, or that there was a second part of She-Ra. It took years of studying and research to finally find the truth about the magicats, about the mask. The Sword of Protection had been lost to time, but the mask… surely that would be under close guard. It would be easy to obtain, if I could find Half Moon.

“And I did.”

Catra is struggling to keep herself from snapping. “The magicats were ahead of me. They knew danger was coming. The mask had already chosen someone to bond with, ensuring that they would someday be led to the sword. The mask on its own promised great power, however, if I could only get my hands on it. And so I led my one and only attack on the kingdom, using the chaos to find the mask. And the little girl it had chosen. I’m sure you can guess who it was.”

The air has gone still. Catra’s eyes are wide, horrified. “I took you and the mask, and I left the kingdom to be massacred by the rest of the army I had brought along. The magicats were strong, but they had lived in peace for too long. They never stood a chance.”

 _The shadows got them_.

“You killed them,” Catra whispers weakly. “You… You slaughtered an entire kingdom just to get something that would never work for you.”

“And I couldn’t even get rid of you, once Adora had decided you were her new friend. A useless mask, and a disobedient child.” Shadow Weaver chuckles. “I believe that’s what one would call karmic retaliation. I tried to destroy the mask, but I should have known better. It found its way back to you. You had no idea what it was, though. And I’ll admit, it was rather enjoyable to watch you walk around wearing it, clueless as to what its true nature.”

Catra’s expression is frozen, her claws digging into her skin hard enough to draw blood. “Where?” she whispered. “Where was Half Moon?”

“Somewhere in the Crimson Waste. I’m sure the mask can lead the way, if you truly feel the need to find it.”

A long moment of silence follows. Catra finally pushes herself up, walking passed the pillar of blue energy, passed her friends, and out the door.

The Horde had wiped out Half Moon.

She is actually, truly, completely the last magicat on Etheria. In the universe.

Everyone else is gone.

Glimmer and Bow call after her. Their voices echo in her ears.

_The shadows got them._

_They never stood a chance._

_Queen C’yra. She was a lovely woman. Only ever wanted what was best for Etheria._

_C’yra says we leave tonight._

“Catra.”

Glimmer gently catches her arm, pulling her back. It’s only then she realizes she’s crying. “We _have_ to go to the Crimson Waste.” Her voice breaks as she speaks. “Half Moon is there, whatever is up with Mara is there, the universe is practically pushing us toward it.”

“It’s dangerous—”

Catra’s temper flares. “Then I’ll go alone!” she snaps, cutting Bow off. “You guys have no idea what it’s like to just stumble around every day surrounded by people who look _nothing_ like you and never understanding why they put you down, or call you a freak or a weirdo or — or—”

She clenches her fists, scrubbing furiously at her eyes. “I _have_ to do this. I have to know.”

Bow and Glimmer exchange looks, and nod. “Then we’re with you,” Glimmer says, smiling.

“Best Friend Squad sticks together,” Bow adds. Catra resists the urge to roll her eyes.

“I hate that stupid name.”

That, of course, gets her wrapped in two pairs of arms as Bow and Glimmer hug her tight.

* * *

Wow, he really does want audience, Adora thinks as she takes in the small crowd on either side of her dead man walk. Scorpia is standing in the front of one group with Lonnie, Kyle, Rogelio. She spares them only a glance before looking up at Hordak, who’s regarding her with an almost bored expression.

“I want you all to watch and learn,” he says, standing, as Adora comes to a stop in front of the steps to his throne. “There is nothing I do not know.” He starts down the stairs. “Nothing I am not willing to do to punish those who betray my touch. Your former Force Captain has proven to be compromised, ineffective, and worthless.” That last part is said with a sneer as he stops in front of her, leaning in so they’re face to face. They exchange lessons before Hordak continues on with his show.

“For the rest of you, take a lesson. This is what happens to failures.”

“If I’m a failure, then what are _you_?”

Everyone gasps, whirling to look at Adora, who’s still resolutely staring ahead at nothing. “You’ve been fighting this war, leading the Horde, for twenty years, and what have you accomplished? Taken a few villages? Killed a few important people? If were as great as you’re always saying you are, you would have already _won_. But you _didn’t_ , because you _can’t_. That’s why you put up with Shadow Weaver’s crap until she got testy with you. That’s why you need to put on this whole big _show_ with me, isn’t it? To prove you’re still all-powerful so no one else sees through you.”

Scorpia is making a high pitched noise in her throat, as if she wants to scream. Adora ignores her. Hordak lets out a half chuckle.

“Quite the speech, I’ll commend you on that. But wasted. There’s been a change of plans?”

Adora whirls around, blinking. “What?”

“Adoraaaaaaaaa!” Hair wraps around Adora, pulling her into some approximation of a hug. “I saved your life!” Entrapta says happily before bouncing to stand with Hordak. “You’re welcome!”

“Entrapta has interceded on your behalf.” Hordak looks amused. He’s won the upperhand here. “You should be thanking her. Instead of the many punishments I intended, you are being sent to retrieve First Ones tech for us in the Crimson Waste.”

Adora’s mouth drops open. “That place is a total dead zone,” she protests, “Nothing—”

 _Nothing survives out there_. Hordak chuckles as if he knows exactly how that sentence is going to end, and Adora understands.

Entrapta didn’t save her. She just made Adora’s death more painful.


	2. The Crimson Waste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If Shadow Weaver wanted to scare us — scare me — she’d do something bigger than show up dying on our doorstep. She doesn’t leave the Fright Zone. She doesn’t take unnecessary risks.”
> 
> “You don’t know that, Catra,” Glimmer argues. “You said it yourself, it’s been a year since you left. She’s probably changed.”
> 
> “Shadow Weaver is a self-serving bitch,” Catra responds flatly. “She always has been, she always will be. She doesn’t care about the Horde, or Etheria, really. But she happens to live on this planet so it’s in her best interest to make sure it isn’t destroyed. Otherwise, all she wants is power. If Hordak took away the runestone — and considering what Entrapta did, I’m willing to bet that’s exactly what happened — then there would be nothing to keep her there, and no reason to maintain her allegiance with the Horde.”
> 
> “That’s a lot of ifs we’re trusting her on.”
> 
> “I don’t trust her. I think we should drop her in the middle of the Whispering Woods and see if she can survive in the wild without magic. But she has nothing to gain by lying, and everything to lose if Hordak destroys Etheria.”

“There is no way Angella has approved this,” Bow says, looking between Glimmer and Catra with a raised eyebrow. They exchange looks, and shrug.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. You got your tracker pad?”

Bow holds up with the coordinates already punched in. “Ready to go.”

“Great!”

Glimmer grabs their shoulders, and in a sparkle of showers, they appear on the edge of the Crimson Waste. Bow keeps an arm around Catra’s waist to keep her upright as she groans. “We’re walking home,” she informs Glimmer bitterly. Glimmer turns to answer, but stops, staring at Catra’s face. Bow is staring as well. “What?” She reaches up, hand clasping her mask; she pulls it off to see it glowing. “Well… that’s certainly a hint. What’s the tracker pad got?”

Bow lets her go to check the tracker pad. “Static.”

“Fantastic.” Catra looks out across the waste land, then at her mask. “I guess this is the best lead we have right now, then?”

“Guess so.” Glimmer sounds uncertain. They really haven’t thought this through, Catra thinks.

“Well… let’s get going then,” Bow says brightly, ever the optimist. “We’ll just… walk in a straight line and keep an eye on the mask. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Catra glares at him. “Did you _seriously_ just say that?”

Bow grins weakly. Catra sighs, shaking her head and taking the lead into the wasteland. They walk in silence for a bit, Glimmer scanning the area around them while Catra stares at her mask, and Bow fiddles with his tracker pad.

“Um… maybe you guys should pay more attention?” Glimmer says, voice jumping up a few octaves, when she sees the remains of a Horde soldier.

“What?” Bow looks up, and stops. “Okay, yeah, that’s a little… haunting, but this place doesn’t seem too bad so far, does it?”

He looks to Catra for an answer — she’s still walking, fingers wrapped around the edges of the mask. Bow and Glimmer exchange looks before the princess teleports them back to Catra’s side.

“About what Shadow Weaver said…”

“Shadow Weaver lies,” Catra says without hesitation. “Every single word out of her mouth that wasn’t _useless mongrel_ was always a lie. Why should I believe anything she says now?”

Bow rests a hand on her shoulder. “What if she’s not lying?” he asks quietly.

Catra’s determined expression twitches for a moment. “Then I need to see it for myself.”

They’re interrupted as the ground rocks beneath them. “What—”

“ _Snake_!” Glimmer screeches. There’s a three-headed snake barreling through the sand toward them.

“Uh—”

“Run!”

Sand is terrible, Catra decides in that moment. Sand is worse than snow. Her feet slip on the uneven surface, making it impossible for her to gain any traction and forcing her to run harder. This isn’t going to work.

“You guys keep running!” she calls as she summons the sword and transforms it into a grappling hook. Her eyes are fixed on a tree branch ahead.

“What are you going to do?” Glimmer demands.

“Not die, probably.”

That’s not reassuring, but Glimmer doesn’t have time to argue. Catra throws the grappling hook, using her momentum to swing herself up onto the (thankfully) sturdy tree branch. Bow and Glimmer run under her; she quickly transforms the hook into a shield and dives off the branch scratching one of the snake’s heads before landing on the middle one. The uninjured head rears up to snap at her, and she jumps again, landing on that head with the shield face down, her feet landing on it. She surfs down the back side of snake ( _that works, holy shit_ ), and skids across the sand. Back to a grappling hook, which she throws to hook onto the middle head.

The next few moments are a blur of motion as the snake pulls Catra with it (she possibly didn’t think this through), and she reorients herself to swing up to the snake’s head. The head is thrashing, and she knows as soon as she lands that this isn’t going to work; she screams as she’s launched off the head, right into a ravine.

“ _Do cats_ always _land on their feet?” Adora asks doubtfully. Catra puffs up in indignation._

“ _Of course! Wanna see how far off the forge I can jump?”_

“ _Yeah!”_

Thirty feet. The answer had been thirty feet. This is definitely more than thirty feet.

Something whistles passed Catra; a net explodes in the ravine, catching onto the walls and cushioning her as she falls into it. One of Bow’s trick arrows, she realizes dazedly.

“You okay?”

Catra looks up to see Bow and Glimmer standing at the edge of the ravine. “I’ve had better days,” she calls back as she jumps up. There are easily enough footholds on the wall for her to climb back up to them. “But, weirdly, I’ve also had worse.”

She sees a cloud of dust in the distance — the snake still rearing about. “Let’s… maybe go in another direction,” she suggests, pulling her mask off again and turning until she’s pretty sure it’s glowing the brightest. She takes a step forward. Bow grabs her before she walks right back off the ravine edge. “Oh. Thanks.”

They walk parallel to the ravine, Catra’s eyes flicking between their path and the glowing mask. “What do you think about what Shadow Weaver said?” Bow asks finally. “About the portal, I mean. Lines up with that message from Mara, doesn’t it?”

“ _A portal?” Angella repeats, raising an eyebrow._

“ _Yes.” Shadow Weaver draws out the word as if talking to a particularly slow child. “He intends to bring through the rest of the Horde’s armies using this portal, and using them to conquer Etheria once and for all.”_

_Everyone behind Catra gasps. “Armies?” Angella repeats. “There’s more of the Horde?”_

“ _A force so large you can not comprehend it.”_

“I don’t know,” Catra says slowly. “She doesn’t have anything to gain by lying about _that_.”

“Unless this has all been a trick to scare us,” Glimmer speaks up. They’ve already had this conversation three times, Catra thinks, sighing inwardly.

“If Shadow Weaver wanted to scare us — scare _me_ — she’d do something bigger than show up dying on our doorstep. She doesn’t leave the Fright Zone. She doesn’t take unnecessary risks.”

“You don’t know that, Catra,” Glimmer argues. “You said it yourself, it’s been a _year_ since you left. She’s probably changed.”

“Shadow Weaver is a self-serving bitch,” Catra responds flatly. “She always has been, she _always_ will be. She doesn’t care about the Horde, or Etheria, really. But she happens to live on this planet so it’s in her best interest to make sure it isn’t destroyed. Otherwise, all she wants is power. If Hordak took away the runestone — and considering what Entrapta did, I’m willing to bet that’s exactly what happened — then there would be nothing to keep her there, and no reason to maintain her allegiance with the Horde.”

“That’s a lot of ifs we’re trusting her on.”

“I don’t _trust_ her. _I_ think we should drop her in the middle of the Whispering Woods and see if she can survive in the wild without magic. But she has nothing to gain by lying, and everything to lose if Hordak destroys Etheria.”

“Shadow Weaver was basically Hordak’s right hand man, wasn’t she?” Bow asks, intervening before Glimmer could begin the cycle again. “Who do you think replaced her?”

“Adora.” The response is instant. “It’s basically what Shadow Weaver raised her for. To be the perfect soldier and leader. She just never considered the possibility that Adora would grow a spine.”

That’s possibly a little more aggressive than necessary. Bow and Glimmer exchange glances. “Do you… wanna talk about it?” Bow asks finally. Catra huffs, kicking at sand.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Adora was the perfect child who could do no wrong and the standard no one to could live up to. And when I, inevitably, failed to be just as perfect, I was punished, then had to listen to Adora say shit like ‘well you _are_ kind of disrespectful’—”

She’s interrupted by two pairs of arms wrapping tight around her. “Sorry,” Bow says. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, it’s fine,” Catra assures him. “I should probably talk about it or something. It’s healthy or… whatever.”

She manages to get an arm out and wrap it around both of them — sort of. Her fingers rest on Glimmer’s shoulder. “Okay, okay. That’s enough love for the day. Come on, we need to find…”

Her voice drifts off as they turn around, facing a cliff wall, and sees a symbol lighting up on it. It looks like her mask. The cliff shakes, a portion of it sliding away to reveal an entrance. The trio stares, mouth mouth hanging open.

“Well,” Catra says after a moment. “That’s probably a hint.”

* * *

Rock bottom needs less sand.

“Starting to think people who don’t wear shoes have the right idea,” Adora mutters, stopping once again to empty the sand from her boots. “Then again…” How many times had she pulled something sharp out of Catra’s foot? “Maybe not.”

“Aren’t you _hot_ in that jacket?” Scorpia asks, panting slightly as she tries to keep up. She’s not built for traveling on foot. “I’m dying over here.”

“Please don’t, I can’t carry your body back to the Fright Zone.”

“Aaaawww, you’d want to bring my body home? That’s so creepily sweet.”

Adora presses the heel of her palm into her forehead, sighing. “Why are you _here_? Hordak didn’t exile you.”

“Technically he didn’t exile you, either—”

“No, he sent me on a suicide mission, which _Entrapta_ encouraged.” Adora speaks through her teeth. “That’s _so_ much better.”

She knows she shouldn’t be mad at Entrapta. Or Scorpia, for that matter. This is all Hordak’s fault, when it comes down to it. _One_ mistake after an entire _life_ of doing everything right (one stolen skiff excluded), and _this_ is the punishment she gets?

 _Maybe Shadow Weaver just made it to easy for you_. The voice in her head sounds suspiciously like Catra. _You’re not Hordak’s precious golden child the way you were hers_.

No. Adora shakes her head. That doesn’t matter. She worked for everything she had. And now she’s going to die in a wasteland because she had _one_ moment of weakness. How is _she_ the one being punished? Catra was the one who always mouthed off to everyone and showed up late for training if she bothered at all and _she_ got to skip off and be happy with _princesses_ —

Adora stops short, blinking rapidly. “...And really if we can just find shelter, we — oof!” Scorpia had kept talking and not paying attention; she walks into Adora and nearly knocks them both over. “Sorry! Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” _No_. “I’m fine.”

Where had _those_ thoughts come from? She doesn’t really feel this way — doesn’t resent Catra, never has. Right?

“ _There’s nothing for me in the Fright Zone._ ”

Or maybe Catra’s known something all along that Adora’s been too blind to see.

Adora scans the area around them, trying to distract herself from the conflicting thoughts. She’s not expecting to find anything, and yet…

“Is… that a building?”

“What?” Scorpia looks in the same direction, tilting her head. “Huh. That’s weird. I thought this place was deserted.”

“Might as well check it out. Give me your badge.”

“What?”

Adora is already unpinning her own. “We don’t know what we’re walking into, and I don’t particularly want to advertise that we’re with the Horde.”

“Oh. Yeah, good thinking.”

Both badges go in Adora’s pocket, and they start off in the direction of the building. It’s a bar, as it turns out. A surprisingly bustling bar. “Wow.” Scorpia scans the bar, noticing eyes turning in their direction. “Looks pretty lifeful to me. Life...ed? Not lifeless. Lively!”

Adora makes for the counter, sitting down, gaze still drifting around. Scorpia’s skittish as she follows. “Maybe this isn’t the best place to take a break.”

“Do _you_ want to sit out in the sun?” Adora asks, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, no one’s going to bother us. Just… look intimidating.”

“Oh. Right, I can do that!”

She tries to put on a serious face. Even Kyle at his worst wouldn’t have been afraid of it. Hopefully everyone here is dumber than Kyle.

Laughter echoes through the bar. “Do you think the snake got ‘em?” A goat lady with purple fur was talking. There was a group gathered at a table in the corner, chuckling as they spoke.

“Probably. Nothing can outrun that thing.”

“The cat seemed pretty fast,” someone else points out. Adora immediately sits up straighter, frowning. _Cat_?

“Those other two were slowin’ her down, though,” another scoffs. “Serves ‘em right for walkin’ in like they own the place…”

Adora hops off the barstool, walking across the room and ignoring Scorpia’s desperate whispering of her name.

“And even if they did live, they won’t survive out there. Maybe they’ll have something good on their bodies—”

“You said cat,” Adora interrupts without shame, drawing looks from the group. The goat lady raises an eyebrow.

“Can I help you?”

“Sure can.” Adora ignores the sarcasm. “Did the cat have a sparkly girl and a guy with a bow with her? Which way did they go?”

The woman makes a noise of disbelief, standing. “You’re an outsider, aren’t you?”

Adora raises an eyebrow. “Is there an answer to that question that’ll get me what I want faster?”

That gets her shoved back. Scorpia winces. “Adora, maybe we should go—”

“Better listen to your friend.”

“Or what?” Adora challenges, straightening up. People who were actually strong didn’t need to put on a front like this. The lady’s faking it, hoping Adora will get scared and run off.

“Or I’ll—”

The threat remains unfinished as a large hand grabs her by the back of her shirt. The tough demeanor immediately fades. “W-We didn’t mean to disturb—”

A large, white-haired lady with purple skin tosses the goat lady outside before she can finish, turning back to glare at Adora and Scorpia. “Listen up. There's only two rules in the Crimson Waste—”

“Hey, I know you!” Scorpia bursts out suddenly, making Adora jump. The woman looks up, meeting Scorpia’s gaze, then grabs them both and shoves them toward the door, walking out into the desert with them. “Ow, okay, a little rough—”

“Shut it,” the woman growls. “What’re you doing here, Scorpia?”

“You two know each other?” Adora asks, looking between them.

“Yeah, this is Huntara. She used to work for the Horde.”

“Don’t say that so loud,” Huntara hisses. “I happen to enjoy my privacy around here.”

“How much privacy do you get if you’re throwing people out of the bar on a daily basis?” Adora asks, raising an eyebrow. Huntara glares at her.

“Listen, Blondie—”

“It’s Adora.”

“You’re lucky I dragged you out of there before things got ugly. Now answer the question. _What_ are you doing here?”

“Oh, we’re looking for—”

“Our friends!” Adora cuts Scorpia off quickly. Huntara _used_ to work for the Horde. Which means she doesn’t anymore. Either she was exiled, or she left. Either way, she probably won’t react well to two force captains on her turf. And maybe she can help them. “They uh… jumped ship, ya know? Deserted. We want to join them.”

Huntara raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. Scorpia looks at her in bewilderment. “We mighta seen your friends,” Huntara says finally. “Way out on the eastern edges. Nothing out there but sand.”

“They might know something we don’t,” Adora says slowly.

“They don’t know something _I_ don’t.”

“Um, Adora?” Scorpia tugs her arm, pulling her away from Huntara. “What’re you doing?” she whispers, confused.

“Trying to get us help.”

“To find Catra and her friends? That’s not what Hordak sent us out here for.”

“Why do you think _they’re_ in the middle of literal nowhere? They must be looking for First Ones’ tech. Which saves us a _lot_ of work.”

“And what do you plan on doing when Huntara finds out you lied to her?”

“I dunno, I’ll figure it,” Adora huffs. “I am _not_ dying in this place.”

Scorpia looks at her for a minute, then sighs. “Okay. If you think this is a good idea…”

Adora smiles encouragingly (she hopes), and walks back to Huntara. “Sorry about that, Horde and all… never know who you can trust.”

“Hmph,” Huntara grunts, looking at Scorpia. “Never thought _you’d_ be the one to get into that mindset.”

“Yeah, well…” Scorpia chuckles, shrugging. “The Horde’s changed a lot since you left. Lotta weird things going on with magic and people deserting and… you know.”

“Thankfully, I don’t.”

“Oh, right.”

“Not to interrupt,” Adora speaks up, trying not to sound too anxious or frustrated. “But… our friends?”

“Right. Cat girl, boy, and shiny one.”

“Sounds like them. Are you _sure_ there was nothing in the direction they were going?”

Huntara snorts. “Nothing but sand and snakes.” She pauses, tilting her head. “Cat girl _did_ have something though… couldn’t tell what it was, we were too far away. But it was glowing.”

Adora immediately straightens up. The mask. “We _really_ need to find them. If it isn’t too much to ask…”

Huntara looks between her and Scorpia for a minute. Scorpia gives her a hopeful little smile. “Ugh,” she finally groans. “ _Fine_. You’re lucky you have Scorpia with you.”

It takes everything Adora has in her not to jump and cheer. “Sure am,” she says simply, settling for a smile.

Maybe they can still turn this around.

* * *

“This is kinda…”

“Creepy,” Glimmer finishes Bow’s thought. “It’s creepy.”

“Angella _did_ say she and Micah were teleported here,” Catra says. She’s leading the way with the still glowing mask as they walk down the winding stone stair case. They can see _something_ in the darkness surrounding them, but the light doesn’t go far enough to make out any details. “It’s probably pretty far under—”

She’s interrupted by steps suddenly disappearing — there’s a gap between where they are and the next step that she completely missed.

“Catra!”

The ground isn’t _too_ far, at least. Catra lands hard on her left side, and she knows she’s going to be feeling that for the next day or so, but overall it could be worse. She picks herself up, groaning, and looks around. “Are you okay?” Glimmer asks as she and Bow appear next to her. “Why do you keep falling?”

“Not exactly what I’m trying to do, Sparkles,” Catra mutters, squinting. She can make out shadows close by. “Come on.”

They only go a few feet before she feels something change in the air, as if they’ve stepped over a threshold. Torches flicker to life on either side of them, and light slowly begins to spread out as more torches follow suit. Catra’s mask finally stops glowing; she puts it back on, stunned.

“We found it.” Her voice is weak. None of them say what they’re all thinking — it’s too dark, too quiet. This is a place that hadn’t seen life for a very long time.

Still, Catra started forward, down the path which leads to a small village. They find the first bodies when they look into a hut.

“Oh,” Glimmer whispers, hand over her mouth. Bow takes a step back, pulling Glimmer with him. He tries to pull Catra as well, but she’s rooted in place. They’re not even really bodies anymore — mostly skeletons, left to collect dust underground for the last seventeen years.

This isn’t a kingdom anymore. It’s a tomb.

Catra finally steps back, realizing she’s crying. A shaking hand goes to her face, wiping the tears away.

“She murdered an entire kingdom for something that would never work for her.” Catra isn’t actually sure she’d said anything until Bow responds.

“I’m sorry, Catra.”

He and Glimmer wrap her in a hug. She’s not in any position to return it, but they don’t seem to mind. “Let’s get out of here,” Glimmer suggests gently. “We still need to find whatever is sending that signal—”

“No, I still want to go to the palace,” Catra says, looking toward the structure in the distance. It’s stupid to think maybe there’s something there that can tell her more about what happened with the First Ones — tell the magicats’ side of the story. But she hasn’t given up that hope yet. “I _know_ it’s asking a lot, but—”

“We know.” Bow rests a hand on her shoulder, smiling. “We’re still in. Right?”

“Right,” Glimmer agrees. Catra wipes her eyes, giving them a weak smile in return.

“Thanks, guys.”

The palace isn’t far — Glimmer teleports them to the front steps. Catra takes a deep breath, bracing herself before walking up and pretending not to see the skeletons on either side of them. Bow and Glimmer keep their gazes firmly ahead as well. The palace entrance hall is blessedly skeleton free.

“If there’s anything about history, it’d probably be in a library,” Bow suggests. “Man, my fathers would lose their minds if they could see…”

“Yeah, let’s have everyone come gape at the fucking graveyard.” Catra doesn’t mean to sound so bitter, she really doesn’t. But she’s not having a good day.

Bow blushes a bit. “That’s not what I… sorry.”

Catra shakes her head. “It’s fine. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

Bow catches her in a quick hug. She assumes she’s forgiven.

They stop in front of a large staircase, looking around. “So… which way to the library, do you think?” Glimmer asks after a moment.

“You’re asking me?” Catra raises an eyebrow. “I’ve never even been here.”

“Technically you don’t know that,” Bow points out. He’s not wrong, Catra supposes. Maybe she had been here, once. Maybe she had lived here. _Fuck_ , what if she was a princess?

 _No, no. Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re already a part-time princess, there’s no way you can be a full-time one, too_.

The thought is only partially comforting.

“Let’s just go.”

They started up the stairs, stopping to peek into the rooms every now and again. They find a few more bodies, some dressed in royal wear, some dressed in simpler, servant clothing. All are mostly skeletons. Catra barely looks before moving on. There’s only so much her sanity could take.

“Do… Do you guys see that glowing?”

Glimmer and Catra look ahead, squinting when they see the blue light. “What do you think…”

Glimmer’s voice drifts off as Catra surges ahead. “Uh, Catra? Catra, hang on, we don’t know—” The princess huffs in frustration, grabbing Bow and teleporting to keep up with her. “Catra, I know you want answers, but we have to be _careful_ —”

“Gimme some light?” Catra asks without looking back. Glimmer sighs, raising her hand and bringing a ball of light to life, letting it hover over them and revealing what had previously been a shadowed, barely lit wall.

It’s a mural. A large mural with magicat writing surrounding it. The figure in the middle of it all holds a familiar sword, wears a familiar mask. déjà vu hits her so hard that it sets her off balance. She steps back, letting out a long breath.

“You okay?” Bow asks gently. Catra shakes her head slowly.

“I… I think I’ve seen this before.”

Her eyes fall to the glowing blue orb, settled on a pedestal. Something draws her forward, hand out.

“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea—” Glimmer starts to protest. But Catra’s fingers are already brushing the smooth surface. Her vision whites out.

She’s on the ground when she wakes up, but not in the palace anymore. She lifts her head, staring dazedly at her surroundings. Barren. Stone. It’s the place she went to when Adora zapped her during the Bright Moon battle.

“ _Hello, child_.”

Catra’s gaze snaps around. It’s the same… thing as before. The weird cat with the shimmering mane and bright blue eyes. There’s a melancholy tone its voice.

“Um… hi,” Catra says slowly, standing. “Good to see you again. I think. Where are we?”

“ _Home_.”

“Home?” Realization is starting to set in. She doesn’t like it. “So this…”

The cat nods slowly. “ _This is Krytis. The homeworld of the magicats_.”


	3. Melog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Should we be worried?”
> 
> Bow looks up at Glimmer, who’s sitting with Catra’s head in her lap, watching her sleep. Is it sleep? She’d just passed out after touching the glowing orb. Is she even okay?
> 
> “I’m not sure,” Bow admits. “She doesn’t look like she’s in pain or anything, though, so that’s good, right? Maybe it’s just some… Magicat thing.”
> 
> “Maybe.” Glimmer eyes the orb with suspicion. She would have thought Catra knew better than to just go _touching_ glowy magic things, but apparently not. So much for being the common sense of their little trio.
> 
> “I’m sure she’s fine,” Bow assures Glimmer again with a small smile. “She’ll probably wake up any minute now with a whole story for us. Or a lot of ranting and swearing.”
> 
> “Or both.”
> 
> They laugh, momentarily reassured. Maybe Catra is finally getting answers. That would be nice, Glimmer thinks. She deserves some peace.

“So, um… do you have a name, or…?”

_You can call me Melog._

Catra follows the odd alien cat, raising an eyebrow. “Melog,” she replies slowly. “Got it. Some um… this is Krytis? Place has seen better days.”

 _It has been abandoned for a long time_. There was a mournful note in the cat’s tone. _Your ancestors escaped, and while we were able to hold off the invading force_ _… I was left alone here_.

“You’ve been alone since everyone left?” That sounds… lonely. “Why didn’t the Magicats come back? I mean, you’ve been able to talk to me, so you must have been able to talk to them… right?”

 _I do not believe they had the capabilities at the time. And the planet is no longer habitable for them_. The cat nods its head around the landscape.

“Yeah it does seem kind of… dead,” Catra says slowly, then winces. “Is that insensitive?”

Melog seems to chuckle, amused. _It_ _’s okay. You’re not wrong. The invading force took… everything._

“What was it?” What has the ability to kill an entire planet? Does Catra want to know? Hordak is bad enough…

 _I believe you you have other things to worry about at this moment_.

“I’m getting sassed by an alien cat,” Catra grumbles, rolling her eyes. She swears Melog is _smiling_. “Do… Do you know anything about… the Magicats and the First Ones?”

 _I know parts of it_. Catra does her best not to get her hopes up. _When your ancestors left, they took some of the planet_ _’s magic with them, using it in combination with Etheria’s to create the head piece you wear, as well as maintaining contact Krytis. I believe their intention was to come back someday, if only for me_. _They were happy on Etheria. The planet and its magic suited them well._

“Then what…” _What happened?_ What could have divided the two races so completely? What parts of the history had the First Ones kept? What had they gotten rid of?

Who’s the villain in this story?

* * *

“Should we be worried?”

Bow looks up at Glimmer, who’s sitting with Catra’s head in her lap, watching her sleep. Is it sleep? She’d just passed out after touching the glowing orb. Is she even okay?

“I’m not sure,” Bow admits. “She doesn’t look like she’s in pain or anything, though, so that’s good, right? Maybe it’s just some… Magicat thing.”

“Maybe.” Glimmer eyes the orb with suspicion. She would have thought Catra knew better than to just go _touching_ glowy magic things, but apparently not. So much for being the common sense of their little trio.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bow assures Glimmer again with a small smile. “She’ll probably wake up any minute now with a whole story for us. Or a lot of ranting and swearing.”

“Or both.”

They laugh, momentarily reassured. Maybe Catra is finally getting answers. That would be nice, Glimmer thinks. She deserves some peace.

A loud crash echoes through cavern. Bow and Glimmer snap around to look out the nearest window, then back at each other. “Be right back,” Glimmer says, standing and disappearing in a shower of sparkles. She reappears at the bottom of the stairs, hand glowing, ready for a fight.

“Ow…” A familiar voice is groaning. Glimmer raises her hand to light up the area, and stiffens when she sees who’s waiting for them.

“ _Adora_.”

The blonde snaps around, distracted from Scorpia, who had apparently fallen through stairs. Her eyes narrow when she sees Glimmer, hand going for the staff on her belt. “Princess.” Her voice is cold. Glimmer’s eyes flick to the third person with them — a large, purple-skinned woman with white hair and a lot of battle scars — and she knows she can’t do this alone. She backs up, preparing to teleport, but Adora is just a split-second faster; she dives at Glimmer, grabbing her right before she disappears. They tumble back into the hall together, landing in a pile of limbs.

“What the—?”

Adora is momentarily distracted by their surroundings, giving Glimmer a chance to kick her off and teleport back to Bow’s side. He’s already standing, arrow knocked into place, guarding Catra. Adora glares at them.

“What did you do?” she demands.

“ _I_ teleported,” Glimmer shoots back. “ _You_ decided to grab onto me for the ride back. Now don’t move. You’re outnumbered.”

Adora scoffs, standing. “I think I can take you two.”

“Hang on,” Bow whispers to Glimmer, eyes flicking down to Catra. If they fight here, she’s going to get caught in the crossfire. Adora follows Bow’s gaze, and her jaw tightens. Bow raises his voice. “This doesn’t have to be a fight, Adora. We know you care about her. _We_ care about her.”

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” Adora snaps, extending her staff. It’s going to be a fight, then. Bow looses the arrow, and Adora swings her staff, catching it by the arrow by the tip and breaking it. Green goo explodes, dripping from the staff for a moment before hardening. Adora tosses it aside, pulling out a stun baton instead.

“ _Nope_ ,” Glimmer snaps, teleporting behind Adora and grabbing her, bringing her back outside. She wants to get to the entrance, or even back into the Crimson Waste, but her magic falters. No, no, no, no, _no_! Not now!

Instead, they end up in the middle of the village. Adora whirls, barely missing hitting Glimmer with the stun baton, and the princess teleports back to Bow, dropping to her knees. “Don’t tell me you’re running low already.” Bow’s voice cracks as he speaks.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting to be ambushed in the middle of nowhere!” Glimmer protests. Bow groans.

“We need to get out of here. Do you think it’s safe to move Catra?”

They look at their still unconscious friend. “I don’t know. But staying here and waiting for Adora and Scorpia and their scary new friend is definitely not the better option.”

“Scary new friend?” Bow repeats.

“Yeah, big purple lady who looks like she could step on us. We _definitely_ need to go.”

Bow nods, grimacing. “Right. Help me get Catra on my back.”

It takes a bit of maneuvering and huffing, but finally they managed to get Catra up and onto Bow’s back. It’s inconvenient considering he’s the one with a weapon, but at the moment, it’s the best they can do. “How far do you think you can get us?” Bow asks. Glimmer bites her lip, trying to think.

“Not to the entrance… maybe as far as I got Adora? But then we’ll have to fight her again—”

She’s cut off by the echo of a loud, booming voice. The words aren’t quite audible, but the tone is unmistakably angry.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

* * *

“What do you mean you _lied to me_?!”

Scorpia had, unsurprisingly, crumpled under Huntara’s scrutiny when Adora was gone. She holds up her pincers, trying to smile and look as non-threatening as possible. “I wouldn’t say we _lied_ , per se—”

“Then what _would_ you say you did?” Huntara growls, drawing her weapon. Hoo boy, this is _not good_.

“We just… Adora really is trying to help her friend. I think. She’s been a bit confusing lately. But she doesn’t want to hurt anyone!” Scorpia rushes the words out as fast as she can. “And you wouldn’t help us if you knew we’re still technically with the Horde even if this particular thing isn’t about the Horde—”

“So you _lied to me._ ” The words are spoken through gritted teeth.

“I… I guess when you put it like that, yeah, I kind of did,” Scorpia admits, shoulders falling in shame. She had _known_ this was a bad idea. Why had she gone along with it?

 _Because Adora wanted to, and you want to help Adora_.

Is this actually helping her, though?

A swinging fist brings Scorpia back to reality. She yelps, ducking and backing away. “C’mon, Hunty.” Her voice is weak. “We don’t need to fight over this—”

“I _trusted you_ ,” Huntara snarls, advancing. “And you pulled this crap—”

An explosion of light blinds them for a moment, and Huntara staggers slightly. Adora’s standing a few feet away, stun baton out and sparking from the attack. But Huntara doesn’t go down. She turns to Adora, expression dark.

“Bad move, Blondie. You should know if you want to attack me, you make sure I go down on the first shot.”

“Huntara, wait—!”

Adora ducks around the attack, wishing she had her staff. Stupid archer and his stupid green gunk arrows. “Adora, don’t,” Scorpia pleads as Adora prepares the stun baton again. “It’s not going to work. Let’s just—”

She’s cut off as Huntara attacks again, and again, Adora dodges. Being shorter than Huntara, who’s used to fighting people her own size, is a bit of an advantage, at least.

Scorpia jumps when she hears a groan behind her, and turns to see the princess, the archer, and Catra. The princess is on her knees, Catra on the archer’s back. He groans when he sees Scorpia.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.”

He grabs the princess and drags her away as Scorpia dives at them. “Hey! Hold still!” Maybe she can still salvage this whole thing. As long as Huntara doesn’t kill Adora.

“Glimmer,” Bow says urgently as he backs up, one hand trying to support Catra, the other keeping Glimmer upright. His eyes are locked on Scorpia. “I don’t like to be pushy, but we _reeeeeeeeeeeeally_ need to get out of here.”

“Just need a minute—”

They do _not_ have a minute. Scorpia is already charging at them again. If Catra could just wake up, they could get out of this—

A purple blur knocks Scorpia off track, throwing her into a nearby wall. The scary lady towers over the trio, glaring down at them. “Are you with the Horde, too?”

“No,” Bow and Glimmer say quickly.

“We can get you out of here, if you want,” Glimmer adds, drawing herself up and squaring her shoulders, ready for one more teleport. Scorpia is recovering from the blow, and Adora’s out of sight, hiding from the scary lady’s wrath. She sizes them up, and nods.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

_It_ _’s been thousands of years since the Magicats left Krytis_.

Catra tries to bite down a groan. “I _know_ this part already. The First Ones saved the Magicats, and they all went to Etheria together.”

Melog chuckles, amused. _Impatient, I see_.

“I’ve been trying to find answers for a long time. I just… really need to know about this. Please.”

Melog nods, purring thoughtfully as they try to decide where to start. They’re walking along, Catra taking in the destroyed landscape. What the hell is capable of doing something like this?

 _The Magicats were good. I may be biased in saying so, but their intentions were always pure. They wanted to make the universe a better place. They wanted to work with their saviors in order to protect the universe from a greater evil_.

“The evil that destroyed this place,” Catra guesses. Melog nods again.

 _They wanted to ensure that what happened here never happened to anyone else. And while I believe the First Ones had similar goals_ _… their intentions were not as pure. They were neither good nor evil — they simply experimented, trying to find the best results_.

Catra’s mind flashes to Entrapta — not good, not evil. Just dedicated to science. “Yeah, I guess I get that. Kind of. So the working together thing didn’t work out because they couldn’t agree on things?”

 _Partially_. Melog makes a sad, mournful noise. _They worked together to create the mask and the sword, with the Runestone embedded in the hilt. But the First Ones wanted more. They didn_ _’t want to just fight the great evil. They wanted to destroy it_.

“That doesn’t seem like a horrible idea to me,” Catra says slowly.

 _You_ _’re not wrong,_ Melog agrees. _But the First Ones took it too far. They wanted to lure the great evil to Etheria, and use the planet as a weapon to destroy it. The sword, the mask, and the person who wielded them would be the key to that weapon_.

Catra blinks a few times, the implications taking a moment to fully settle in. “They wanted to use She-Ra to turn Etheria into a giant super weapon.”

 _Yes. The Magicats did not agree with this, of course. Their leader was very vocal about her refusal to allow their magic to be manipulated and used in such a way that would bring harm to anyone_ _— there were other people inhabiting the planet. They would all die if the First Ones went through with their plan. They wanted to protect every living being. The First Ones, however, saw them as a necessary sacrifice. Some must die in order for everyone to live_.

“That’s… That’s sick,” Catra says slowly, hands shaking. “Lives don’t work like that, a _necessary sacrifice_ is just… murder.”

Melog smiles gently. _Your ancestors agreed. C_ _’yra, the leader of the clan, made it clear to the First Ones that they would not allow their magic to be twisted and used in needless slaughter. They planned to take the sword and the mask and go into hiding, to ensure that the First Ones would have no way of following through on their plans. But in the end, they could only get away with the mask_.

“So they… they ran away and went into hiding so the First Ones couldn’t destroy Etheria?” Melog nods. “And the First Ones made sure that everyone believed the Magicats had betrayed them so no one would question their motives. But what about Mara? Where does she come into all this?”

 _I_ _’m afraid I don’t know who that is_.

“She was the She-Ra before me, a First One. Light Hope — Someone told me she was overwhelmed by the power of the sword because there was no mask to balance it out, and she trapped Etheria in an empty universe because she went insane. Kind of.” Light Hope’s story had been pretty vague.

 _I know nothing of what became of the sword after the Magicats abandoned the First Ones_ , Melog says slowly. _Etheria did indeed disappear from the greater universe a thousand years ago, though. My connection with them was fractured after that. I could still communicate with them, but not as easily_.

“Why? I mean, we’re talking now. And you talked to me before.”

 _The power of the mask allows me to break through at times, usually during moments when the wielder is experiencing high stress._ Almost being killed by her best friend qualifies as high stress, Catra decides. _Ideally, however, the mask would need to be connected to the other source of Magicat magic in order to fully form a connection_.

The blue orb, Catra guesses. “So you have no idea what happened with Mara, or if Light Hope is right about Mara not having the mask driving her insane.”

 _I do not_ , Melog says mournfully. _I_ _’m sorry I can’t put your mind at ease_.

Catra sighs, shoulders dropping. “What am I supposed to do, then? Hordak wants to open a portal. Should I just let him? What happens if we come back to the… larger universe? I mean besides this _great evil_ finding us.”

 _I can_ _’t say. I do not know the circumstances of the first portal being opened_.

Catra drops to her knees, staring off into the distance. “So that’s it, then. There’s just _nothing_. I have to go back there and do something, and I have no idea what I should do. I don’t know why Mara brought Etheria to that place to begin with, or what’ll happen if I let Hordak open a portal to bring us back. I mean, I guess besides the great evil.” She pressed her face into her hands, sighing. A gentle head nudges her arm — Melog, trying to offer comfort.

 _It is not fair that you carry this burden alone_ , they say. _And I can not offer you advice without knowing more of the situation myself. But the mask chose you for a reason. Trust in that power, and believe in yourself_.

They have no idea how hard both of those things are for Catra. How is she supposed to do either of those things?

 _It_ _’s time for you to go back_ , Melog says. _Your friends are waiting_.

Catra looks up, scanning the area around them. “Hey, maybe if Hordak gets us back to the regular universe, we can come get you from this place.”

The alien cat chuckles. _I would like that_.

* * *

They’re no longer underground.

Catra blinks, staring at the blank, dark sky. She could hear and smell a fire crackling somewhere nearby, and the low sound of hushed voices. A face appears in her field of vision.

“Sparkles?”

“You’re awake!” Glimmer scoops her up, hugging her tight. They’re joined a moment later by Bow.

“Hey guys,” she groans, patting each of their backs. Her eyes fall on a nearby lady, sitting in front of the fire, which casts eerie shadows across her face. “Um… pick up a new friend while I was out?”

“Oh, right.” Glimmer pulls away. “Catra, this is Huntara. She um… accidentally led Scorpia and Adora to us and then saved us when she realized they lied to her about deserting the Horde.”

“What the _fuck_ ,” Catra burst out in disbelief. “What are they doing in the middle of literal nowhere?”

“We didn’t really stop to ask.”

“They _said_ they were looking for their friends,” Huntara grumbles, clearly still insulted about being lied to. “What was that place? I’ve lived here for years, and I’ve never known about an underground kingdom.”

“It’s not much of a kingdom anymore,” Catra says, rubbing the back of her head. “Thanks for helping. I didn’t expect to be unconscious for that long.”

“You expected to be unconscious at _all_?” Glimmer demands.

“Okay, no,” Catra admits. “But I was… you know what, it’s a long story. Worry about it later. We still need to find that signal. I bet that’s what Adora and Scorpia are _really_ here for, and they figured we’re here for it too. Which means they’re following us.”

“Oh, right.” Bow looks hopefully to Huntara. “Do you know anything about any hidden First One tech around here?”

Huntara raises an eyebrow. “I ain’t a tour guide, kid. I left the Horde for a reason. I’m not getting mixed up in whatever all of this is.”

“I don’t blame you,” Catra says, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t exactly leave the Horde because I had some glorious epiphany about how evil they are. But it’s… it’s really important that we find whatever’s out here, if there’s anything. It _sucks_ , but we need it. Also, Sparkles over there is a princess. She can pay you whatever you want.”

“ _Catra_ ,” Glimmer hisses. She knows damn well they can’t promise that. Huntara eyes them for a moment, then chuckles.

“Catra, huh? I remember hearing Shadow Weaver bitch about you.”

She scoffs. “Of _course_. Someone should’ve let me hit her harder.”

“I’ll see how I feel in the morning,” she informs them. “But I think I might know what you’re looking for. Need a good night’s sleep after dragging those two all the way to that weird kingdom.”

Glimmer sighs, and Bow grins, looking back at Catra. She shrugs tiredly. “Well, I’ve been asleep half the day, apparently, so you guys get some sleep. I’ll stand watch.”

“What happened when you touched that orb?” Glimmer asks, frowning slightly.

“Remember when Adora tased me, and I had that weird dream about the alien on another planet?” Glimmer and Bow nod. “I ended up back there. Their name is Melog.”

“Oh.” They blink, waiting for Catra to deliver a punchline. She doesn’t. “Well, okay then. Did they help at all?”

“Sort of.” She’s not sure how to feel about what Melog had told her. It had answered a lot of questions… and opened up so many more. “I’ll tell you in the morning. Just get some sleep.”

* * *

“Okay. Okay okay okay okay okay, we’re good, we’re good, weeeee’re good!”

Scorpia huffs as she and Adora finally manage to climb out of that cavern, both gasping for air. “Hoo boy,” the larger woman gasps, rubbing the back of her head. “That was definitely something. Uh. What was that?”

“Not sure.” Adora pushes herself up, looking around. “Looked like some kind of abandoned kingdom.”

“There are a _lot_ of those,” Scorpia says, standing as well. “Okay, so we’re stuck in the middle of the Crimson Waste with no way of getting out. What now?”

“Now we find Catra and her little entourage and hope they lead us to whatever First One tech they’re looking for,” Adora says, choosing a direction to start walking in.

“Yeah, about that.” Scorpia jogs to keep up with her. “We don’t even know where they went, and that princess could’ve teleported them anywhere—”

“She has limits,” Adora interrupts. “Her magic only goes so far. I’m guessing she needs to be near her precious runestone.” Her voice might be slightly bitter. “And they won’t leave until they find what they’re looking for. I doubt they went too far.”

Scorpia sighs. “I _guess_ … what about Huntara, though? She’s pretty mad, and we’re outnumbered.”

“We’ll figure it out, Scorpia. Don’t worry so much.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Scorpia assures her quickly. “I just don’t want us to get lost out here, ya know? We saw a _lot_ of bodies on our way here.”

“I know. Trust me, I don’t want to end up like them either. Standing here isn’t going to save us either, though.”

They can still turn around and go back, Scorpia thinks forlornly. But Adora is already stubbornly walking forward, ready to continue this death trip. Scorpia hurries to catch up, not wanting to be left behind with nothing but sand and the creepy, empty kingdom below them.

* * *

Catra is exhausted by the time the sun starts to rise. Bow is up early, of course. What a morning person. “You should get some rest before we take off,” he suggests with a small smile.

“Nope. I’m good.”

Bow watches her, eyebrow raised. “You didn’t get any answers, did you?”

“I got a few,” Catra protests half-heartedly. “Nothing about Mara and what happened with the portal, though.”

“Do you feel better?”

No. No she doesn’t. That’s not fair. Answers were supposed to help, weren’t they? What else could she do? “Do you think letting Hordak open the portal would really be such a bad thing?” she asks after a moment, looking at Bow.

“Um… did you forget the Horde armies?”

Actually, she did. Catra grimaces, looking away. “Besides that. I mean, if Etheria belongs in another universe, shouldn’t we want to get back there?”

Bow hesitates. “I’m not sure. We don’t know what else is waiting out in that universe. We could walk right into danger we’re not ready for.”

Catra remembers what Melog said about “the great evil.” She should have pushed more on that. “I know, I know.” She drags her hands through her hair, sighing. Bow moves to sit with her, resting a hand on her shoulder and giving her a gentle smile.

“I know you want to fix Mara’s and the Magicats’ mistakes. I get it, I really do.”

“Do you?” The words are more irritated than Catra means for them to be. Bow wilts slightly.

“Okay, not really,” he admits. “But we’ve got your back. You know that, right?”

Catra sighs, nodding. “Yeah. I know, thanks Bow.”

He gathers her up in a hug, half pulling her into his lap. She sighs. This isn’t surprising, really.

* * *

“Are you hot? I’m hot. I’m really, really, really… _hot_.”

Scorpia sighs, fanning herself with a pincer. It doesn’t do much good. “Maybe we could stop and find some — oof!”

She grunts as she walks into Adora. “Oops! Sorry, are you — what’s wrong?”

Adora is staring up, squinting. “Ambush,” she says simply. Scorpia looks up as well, seeing the shadowy figures surrounding them from various perches.

“Oh boy.”


	4. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora looks around, taking in the shadowy figures. “Great. Don’t suppose you know any of them.”
> 
> “Prooooooooobably not.”
> 
> A large, red Reptilian man jumps down in front of them, grinning down at Adora. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to wander around the Wastes alone, Blondie?” he sneers, looking her up and down. Adora huffs impatiently.
> 
> “Can we not with the big damn bad guy thing? I’m not in the mood.”
> 
> Scorpia winces, half stepping forward to step between them, but the Reptilian had already grabbed Adora by the jacket. “You better learn some respect, girl. Don’t you know who I am?”
> 
> “No, and I really don’t care, honestly. Are you going to let me walk away, or do I have to make this embarrassing for you?”

“You were with the Horde, but you left because your friend thought you were brainwashed by princesses and was going to let Shadow Weaver mess with your memories?” Huntara snorts. “Not very bright, is she?”

“Bright enough to fool you, apparently.”

That gets Catra a scowl. Bow and Glimmer resist the urge to facepalm. Catra is apparently incapable of playing nice with someone who can break her in half. They’re walking through the desert with a destination in mind, according to their guide.

“I trusted Scorpia,” Huntara huffs. “She used to be a good person. That friend of yours is a bad influence.”

Catra’s laugh echoes in the empty air. “Oh man, that’s a switch. Golden child Adora is the bad influence now.”

“That’s funny?” Huntara asks doubtfully.

“It’s funny if you know how messed up our childhood was.” Catra’s laughter dies into low chuckles, then sighs. “No, actually, it’s really not funny, but if I don’t laugh, what else am I gonna do? Sparkles and Arrow Boy keep saying punching my feelings out isn’t healthy.”

“Definitely never been in the Horde.” Huntara laughs. Bow and Glimmer exchange looks. Maybe they should have found another Horde defector sooner. Apparently Catra responded better to that than she did anything else.

“What’re you leading us to, anyway?”

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure,” Huntara admits. “Dust storm kicked up, and it was unearthed. Everyone got what they could out of it. Stands out like a sore thumb. Literally. And it talks.”

“It _talks_?”

“Yup. I hear it sometimes. _She-Ra_.”

Catra frowns, looking forward. She can something glinting in the distance. “I take it we’re almost there.”

“Good eye, kitty cat.” Catra glares at Huntara, who grins back. “It says other things too. Etheria. Gone. It’s like it’s on a loop. Or it’s just waiting for someone specific to find it. You’re the first ones who’ve come looking since the whole palce was looted.”

“Guess it’s been waiting for us.” _Or me_ , Catra thinks bitterly. Stupid She-Ra. Stupid mask. Stupid sword.

“Whaddaya want it for, anyway?”

Catra doesn’t answer. She’s not sure, if she’s honest. Does she think a crashed ship can answer her questions better than an alien on another planet in another universe? Maybe Mara left something behind — some justification for why she had trapped Etheria in this place. Some reason to just leave it here.

 _You keep forgetting the Horde, idiot_.

_I can deal with Hordak if I need to. No Hordak on Etheria, no reason to attack it, right?_

The justification makes enough sense in her head that she lets it go.

 _She-Ra_ …

Catra stops, ears perking up. “Catra?” Glimmer questions, head tilted. They must still be too far away for regular ears.

“I can hear it.” And just like that, her mind is racing. What if it has records? Or some kind of travel log? What if it really _does_ have answers?

“Wait, don’t get ahead—!”

Too late — Catra is already bolting through the sand on all fours, completely focused. “Fast kitty,” she faintly hears Huntara say behind her.

* * *

Adora looks around, taking in the shadowy figures. “Great. Don’t suppose you know any of them.”

“Prooooooooobably not.”

A large, red Reptilian man jumps down in front of them, grinning down at Adora. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to wander around the Wastes alone, Blondie?” he sneers, looking her up and down. Adora huffs impatiently.

“Can we not with the big damn bad guy thing? I’m not in the mood.”

Scorpia winces, half stepping forward to step between them, but the Reptilian had already grabbed Adora by the jacket. “You better learn some respect, girl. Don’t you know who I am?”

“No, and I really don’t care, honestly. Are you going to let me walk away, or do I have to make this embarrassing for you?”

The man growls, throwing Adora away. She hits the sand with a grunt, rolling into a crouch. “You’ll pay for that,” he snarls as he walks toward her. “Nobody crosses Tung Lashor.”

Adora snorts before she can stop herself. “ _Tung Lashor?_ Are you serious? Look, I can appreciate an on point name, but _Tung Lashor_?”

He growls, pulling a whip off his belt and cracking it against the ground. Adora jumps, grabbing her stun baton and powering it up. She doesn’t expect it to do any significant damage, but it’s at least distracting for a moment. She pulls a knife from her sleeve, slicing through the whip. She hears Scorpia calling her name, but she doesn’t interfere. Hopefully she’s okay.

“You _little_ —”

“Do you do anything besides look intimidating? Seriously, I just want to get through.”

Tung Lashor slams his fists together, running toward Adora. She pulls her staff and vaults over him, whirling to kick him in the back. He turned back to her, and she jumped again, backing up.

“ _You can’t just run at everything and hope you don’t die, dummy.”_

“ _Oh yeah? Then what am I supposed to do?”_

“ _Literally anything else. Look around. Make a plan. Use your_ brain _for once.”_

“ _Rude_.”

Adora casts her eyes around as she jumps back, dodging another blow; her foot comes down and sinks just slightly. Quicksand. She looks back to Tung Lashor as he charges at her, moving only at the last second, and using her staff to trip him. He goes face first into the quicksand, and she backs up, satisfied.

Silence rings through the area as Adora turns to inspect Tung Lashor’s gang. “So,” she says loud enough for her voice to carry. “Does anyone know anything about First Ones’ tech in the area?”

* * *

“I… always… forget… how fast… she is,” Bow gasps as they finally catch up to the ship, which Catra had disappeared into nearly two minutes ago.

“Could’ve… just… let me… teleport,” Glimmer shoots back. Even Huntara is winded, though not nearly as bad.

“Sounds like that teleporting’s made you soft,” she comments with a smirk. Glimmer pushes down her annoyance, grabbing Bow and heading for the entrance.

“Catra? Are you okay? Did you find—”

The question dies on her tongue when she sees the empty room they’re standing in. “Oh,” she says quietly, looking around. Catra is staring at the wall, motionless.

“I did mention the place was looted, didn’t I?” Huntara asks, ducking in. “Big old thing like this, no security, it was just asking to be picked clean. Do you know how much this kind of stuff goes for in the Crimson Waste?”

_Wham!_

They all jump as Catra slams her fist into the wall. “ _Damn it_!” Another punch. “Every _fucking time_ —”

“Oooooooookay.” Bow grabs her wrist before she can land a third blow. “I know you’re upset, but beating up the wall isn’t going to help.”

“You don’t know that,” Catra grumbles, pulling away. “This just… it doesn’t make sense.” She looks around helplessly. “The outside of this thing is _huge_. This can’t be all there is.”

“ _She-Ra_.” The others jump as they hear the voice for the first time.

“It’s just like Alwyn,” Glimmer half whimpers, curling in on herself. Catra looks at her, frowning. _Just like Alwyn_ …

“Alwyn was a communication hub that was activated when Entrapta messed with the runestones!” Bow reminds them excitedly. “What if the ship is the same?”

“The ship’s communication system was activated and it’s been broadcasting this entire time?” Catra guesses.

“Yes! Which means there _has_ to be more here!”

Catra whips around, eyes scanning the wall. She taps the charm on her belt, summoning the sword, and it transforms into a shield, thrumming. “Do you think it’s doing something—”

The room lights up in pink, illuminating a mural of She-Ra; a door creaks open, bats flying out. They all scream, ducking. “Yeah,” Catra says after a moment, raising her head. “I think it did something.”

“ _She-Ra. Etheria. Gone_.”

The voice sounds ethereal. Ghostly. “So we’re… going in, right?” Bow asks, looking around.

“Absolutely.” Glimmer braces herself. “On three. One—”

Catra darts straight through the door. Huntara chuckles as she follows. “I like her way of doing things.”

It’s a control room. Catra looks around, her eyes picking out various buttons and levers on the panel, and a chair in the middle of the room. “Cooooooooooool.” Bow’s eyes are wide as he steps in, voice awestruck. “This is _all_ First One’s technology. Can you believe it?!”

His voice cracks. He walks to the chair, sitting down and touching something on the arm. A screen flickers to life in front of him. “Whoa.” Glimmer jumps up next to the chair.

“This is the message from my tracker pad,” Bow reports, leaning in to get a closer look. Catra notices a glimmer of pink in the corner and steps closer. The glitching energy takes shape after a moment, revealing a young woman with in a shirt and skirt, hair flowing behind her.

“Mara,” Catra breathes.

“ _I am Mara, She-Ra of Etheria, and I am gone,_ ” the hologram reports in a monotone voice. Catra reaches out slowly, not sure what she’s expecting. But her hand goes through it. “ _I am Mara, She-Ra of Etheria, and I am gone._ ”

“Well that’s unsettling,” Huntara comments, raising an eyebrow. Catra frowns, looking around.

“There must be a password or… something, I dunno. The Crystal Palace was the same way.”

“ _I am Mara, She-Ra of Etheria, and I am gone._ ”

“Yeah, I heard you the first two times,” Catra grumbles. “Um… god don’t make me transform. I have the sword and I’m She-Ra, isn’t that enough?”

“ _I am Mara, She-Ra of Etheria, and I am gone._ ”

“Administrator detected?”

“ _I am Mara, She-Ra of Etheria, and I am gone._ ”

“Ugh, what was that thing on the elemental in the library — Eternia.”

“ _I am Mara, She-Ra of Etheria, and I am gone._ ”

“Is it the Magicat thing?” She yanks the mask off. “There, no more Magicat. I mean, except me, but I can’t really make myself disappear.”

“ _I am Mara, She-Ra of Etheria, and I am gone._ ”

“Seriously?!” Catra threw her hands up in disbelief. “What do you _want_ from me? I’m jumping through all your hoops and I’m putting all the pieces together and I _don’t know what else you want from me_!” She kicks the console in frustration. “I left the _only_ person who cared about me, the only _home_ I know, just to follow this stupid destiny I apparently have, and all I’ve gotten over and over is more _questions_! And when I’m not getting questions, I’m just hitting dead ends! Light Hope? Nothing. Half Moon? Ha, the Magicats are all dead! _This stupid ship_?!”

She kicks the console again. “Hey,” Bow says gently, resting a hand on Catra’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Let’s—”

Something is flickering on the console. Catra looks, surprised, and sees an image of the sword hilt sticking out of a slot. “Hang on,” she mutters, drawing the sword again and slipping it into the slot. The pink hologram flickers away, and another appears in the captain’s chair. Mara looks smaller, normal. But hurt. She’s holding her side and wincing as she speaks.

“ _I don't have much time. I barely made it out._ ” Catra steps closer, wide-eyed. The hologram glitches, Mara’s voice echoing. “ _If you are seeing this, it means you wield the Sword. You are the new She-Ra. It means I failed. I was supposed to be the last. And I am so, so sorry_.”

Catra looks back at the sword, eyes wide, then to Mara again. What did she mean? “ _I don’t know what they told you, but it wasn’t all bad at first_.” There’s so much pain in her voice. What had happened? “ _We were the first ones to settle on Etheria and study the planet’s magic. We saved — I thought we saved the Magicats. Did we just make things worse?_ ”

“Catra—”

She holds up a hand to silence Glimmer, not taking her eyes away from Mara. “ _How could it go so wrong?_ ” She sounds so… sad. Catra understands that. The hologram begins to glitch, speaking in broken statements. “ _Light Hope use the - Can't — Weapon — the weapon — Weapon._ ”

Catra perks up slightly at the mention of Light Hope. “Wait, what about Light Hope? Did she do something? Can she do something?” Not that Mara can answer. “Can we fix this thing?”

“I’m trying,” Bow calls back. “But I think it was permanently damaged by the crash.”

The hologram came back into focus, Mara struggling to speak. “ _I opened a portal to a completely empty dimension and pulled Etheria in. I hid us from the rest of the universe to keep everyone safe. This is the one place they'll never find us. I saw what they would do. The deaths that would follow._ ”

What does she mean? Is this about the First Ones’ weapon Melog mentioned? “ _I couldn't stop them before but I can now. Hiding is our only option. Maybe it's been a week. Maybe it's been thousands of years._ ” Helpless. Now she sounds helpless. _“I never wanted to be a hero.”_ Catra can relate to that, she thinks bitterly. She’d give anything to let someone else have this responsibility. _“I won't be remembered as one._ ” A pause. _“The Magicats took the mask, but the sword can still work on its own. I hope they can stop this if I can’t. You have the sword now. It is the administrator key to our planet. With it, you can activate a portal. So I'm begging you. Don't do it. Leave us here. If you open a portal, death and destruction will follow. For the good of the universe, Etheria must stay in Despondos. If not, everyone will—”_

She’s cut off by alarms, gasping and looking around. And then the hologram disappears. “What?” Catra steps forward, as if expecting the hologram to reappear and answer her questions. “Everyone will what? What did the First Ones do?”

_What did Mara do?_

“ _The power was too much for her to handle without the aid of the mask. She was compromised. She gave in to fear and faulty reasoning. Her desperate actions led to devastation. Mara stranded us in the empty dimension of Despandos. She broke the She-Ra line. She nearly destroyed us._ ”

Light Hope’s words echo in Catra’s head. _She was compromised_. Overwhelmed by a power not meant to be handled by her alone. But she had mentioned the Magicats and the mask. She knew about them.

Catra collapses onto the step, burying her face in her hands. What if this is all just a madwoman rambling? What if she’s wrong?

What if she’s right?

“ _I hope they can stop this if I can’t_.”

Did she work with the Magicats? Melog said they ran to stop the First Ones from using a weapon…

“Hey.”

Glimmer rests a hand on Catra’s shoulder, sitting on one side, while Bow settled on the other. “Don’t stress, okay? Maybe there’s still something to find in Half Moon. We can go back and—”

Catra’s ears twitch; she sits up straight, hissing, “ _Shush_.” Huntara looks up at the same, squinting through the gloom, then scowling.

“Tung Lashor.” _What the fuck is a Tung Lashor_ , Catra wonders distantly. “Don’t start with me, I’ve had a long few days—”

“Tung Lashor’s a bit wrapped up, actually.” Catra bolts up at the sound of the voice, whirling to see Adora stepping out of the shadows, surrounded by various hybrids. “But his gang was kind enough to help us find our way here.”

Catra laughs despite herself. It’s not a humorous sound. She’s too tired and too exasperated for any kind of humor. “You went out and got a bunch of desert bandits to help you? Not bad, Adora. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Well we had to do _something_ after you ditched us in that kingdom,” Adora shoots back.

“Hey, I was unconscious for that!” Catra protests. It’s not like she ever has any choice in her life.

“So you _wouldn’t_ have left us there?”

“I mean… you _have_ tried to kill us a buncha times, so…” Catra shrugs. “Besides, you got out. Get over it. I’m still pissed off about you stabbing me.”

“That was _months_ ago!” Adora throws her hands up. As if not forgiving stabbing and kidnapping is somehow unreasonable.

“Yeah, well I’m in a pretty bad mood right now, so I’m feeling a bit petty.” Catra steps back, remembering the sword in the console. Adora draws a stun baton, and Catra ducks, nearly missing being hit by a blast of electricity. “You know, I’m really starting to hate that thing,” she growls as she straightens up again. The sword is too far for her to get. But it’s Adora. Does she really need it?

Well, it’s Adora and Scorpia, she notes, seeing Adora’s new shadow. Adora and Scorpia. And a bunch of Wasteland thugs who look eager for a fight. Glimmer must be running low on magic by now. She can see Bow’s quiver is just a little sparse. Huntara looks ready to fight, and she’s big, but they’re surrounded.

“ _Hordak wants to open a portal.”_

“ _Mara stranded us in the empty dimension of Despandos.”_

“ _If you open a portal, death and destruction will follow.”_

“ _She was compromised.”_

“ _The Magicats took the mask, but the sword can still work on its own. I hope they can stop this if I can’t.”_

“ _He intends to bring through the rest of the Horde’s armies using this portal, and using them to conquer Etheria once and for all.”_

“ _She gave in to fear and faulty reasoning. Her desperate actions led to devastation.”_

“ _Etheria must stay in Despandos.”_

“Stop!”

Catra’s voice echoes through the control room. She’s not sure if she’s yelling at herself, the others, or at the voices in her head. Maybe it doesn’t matter. She meets Adora’s gaze. “I’ll go with you.”

Adora blinks a few times, clearly stunned. She’s not the only one. “ _What_?” Glimmer demands, whirling to glare at Catra. She ignores the princess, turning and walking to the console. She pulls the sword out, transforming back to the little cat charm.

“What’s the catch?” Adora asks slowly. Catra turns to her again.

“The catch is that we do this on my terms. You let Glimmer, Bow, and Huntara go. Ditch your little gang. I’m not going back as your prisoner. I want to talk to Hordak. I want to find out more about this portal of his, and if he can really get us out of Despandos.”

“But Mara said—”

“Mara could be a loon driven completely up the wall by powers she couldn’t control.” Catra sounds a lot calmer than she feels. “I want answers. And it sounds like Hordak is the guy to get them from.”

“But—”

“Go back to Bright Moon, Glimmer. I’ll send you a message when I can.” She narrows her eyes at Adora. “Not a prisoner. Right?”

“Not a prisoner,” Adora agrees slowly. “I can’t promise Hordak will listen, though. He’s not exactly a chatty person.”

“He wants First Ones’ tech, doesn’t he?” Catra holds up the charm. “I literally have the most powerful artifact in the palm of my hand. He’ll listen.”

“What about what Shadow Weaver said?” Glimmer demands. Something flashes in Adora’s eyes.

“ _You’ve_ talked to Shadow Weaver?”

“She dropped into Bright Moon to sell out the Horde. And I’m not basing all my choices on what she says.”

Glimmer and Bow exchange helpless glances. “Please,” Glimmer begs. “Don’t do this. You can’t go back there.”

“I’m not going back.” Catra’s voice is flat. “I’m trying to fix all the mistakes that got us here.”

“That’s not your responsibility!”

“Yes, it is!” Catra whirls to glare at Glimmer, although it’s clear her heart isn’t in it. “I’m… I’m She-Ra. This is why I exist. This has _always_ been the reason I exist. I take blows for everyone else, and I take responsibility for everyone’s mistakes, or it’s pushed on me. Either way, this is what I have to do.”

She turns back to Adora, walking to her old friend without any hesitation. “Ready when you are.”

Adora looks back at Scorpia, then at her desert gang, then at Catra, and nods.

“Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know begging for reviews isn't really a good luck but... they really do keep me going, especially on this particular story. It's just really good to know people are interested and that this worth working on, you know?


	5. Deal With The Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No preview, too many important things

Hordak is a lot of things. Patient and forgiving is not one of them.

In all his time on this backwater planet, only one person has ever managed to invoke that side of Hordak, and she’s currently sitting several feet away, going on excitedly about a new idea for the portal if Adora doesn’t come through with First Ones’ tech.

Adora. Hordak almost laughs at the thought. She’s probably been picked clean by vultures already—

“Oh, hey Adora!”

Hordak whirls, stunned, to see the force captain walking into the lab like she owns the place. He grits his teeth, resisting the urge to storm over and backhand her. “I sent you to retrieve First Ones’ tech,” he hisses instead as soon as she close enough. The smile she gives in return is smug.

“And I did.”

She’s not alone, Hordak realizes then. The Magicat — She-Ra — is standing a few feet behind her, arms folded, expression neutral. How had Shadow Weaver missed that kind of potential in her? The black garnet truly had been wasted.

“Catra?” Entrapta tilts her head curiously. “Are you going to let me experiment on the sword?!”

“ _No_ , I’m not letting you experiment on the sword!” Catra rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

“She wants to talk to you,” Adora tells Hordak. Her voice is calm, measured. Hordak narrows his eyes.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re not used to social calls,” Catra says, stepping forward. “But I’ve got a deal for you.”

Hordak takes stock of his situation. Entrapta may be brilliant, but she’s no fighter. Adora will not fight for him if it comes down to it. And he doesn’t know enough about Catra or She-Ra to confidently say he could take her — even if he’ll never admit that out-loud. Not to mention all the delicate machinery that could be destroyed in the process.

“I’ll entertain you for a moment, I suppose,” he finally allows. Catra folds her arms, gaze unwavering. Oh, he can see why this one annoyed Shadow Weaver.

“I want to know about the portal. And the other universe — the one we’re _supposed_ to be in.”

“You think you can come in here and demand—”

“Yeah, I do,” Catra cuts off the growing fury. “I’ve got the best First Ones’ tech that exists on all of Etheria. Unless you think you can do better than the sword.”

She’s not wrong, and that infuriates Hordak. The possibilities with the sword would be endless. “The mechanisms of the portal are far too advanced for you—”

“What would happen if you opened a portal right now?” Catra cuts in again. “If it worked, and nothing went cosmically wrong, would you just… bring Etheria back into the universe?”

“Of course not.” Hordak scoffs. “I’m not opening the portal to bring Etheria back into the wider universe.”

“Oh, right. You want to bring the Horde’s forces through to take over the planet.” How does she— “Shadow Weaver sold you out. If you’d bothered to ask, I would’ve told you not to trust her as far as you can throw her.”

“Do not mouth off to me, _child_ —”

“But that’s not the point.” She’s annoyingly bold, Hordak thinks. “ _Could_ you bring Etheria back into the larger universe?”

The question makes Hordak pause. “It’s not impossible. But I hardly see the point.”

“No, you wouldn’t see it,” Catra grumbles. “You’re not the one who has thousands of years of fuck ups on your shoulders. You _can_ do it, though. That’s what I’m gathering here.”

It is a _possibility._ ” Hordak stresses the word. Catra narrows her eyes at him.

“ _If_ I give you the sword, how strong does that possibility become?”

Hordak stares at her for a long moment. “Are you trying to _bargain_ with me?”

“No, I _am_ bargaining with you.” Such an ego. “The sword is the key to the planet. You’re not going anywhere without it.”

“And why shouldn’t I just kill you now and take the sword?”

Adora stiffens, her hand going for the stun baton on her belt. Catra calmly holds up a small charm. “Because the sword won’t work without me. I mean, I guess you could try, but you’d look kind of stupid using a little cat charm to work your portal. And you don’t seem like the kind of person who takes failure well.”

Hordak grits his teeth. Adora’s eyes flick to the lever that activates his insane air-stealing machine — across the room, thankfully. “What are your terms?” the Horde lord finally asks.

“Get Etheria back where it belongs. Get off the planet. And go away. I don’t know why you want to go back, and I don’t care. Just leave.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you better hope that whatever _greater evil_ is waiting on the other side gets to the planet before I run you through.”

Entrapta is eerily still, looking between Hordak and Catra. Adora is still poised to attack if Hordak tries anything. He’s sizing Catra up, frowning. “I suppose we can find a way to work together,” he finally says, holding his hand out. Catra takes a step back.

“One more thing. Entrapta is the _only_ person who touches the sword.” Entrapta lights up. “ _Not_ to experiment on it.” She sighs in disappointment. “Use it for whatever portal-related things you need, and then it goes straight back to me. _Got it_?”

“Got it!” Entrapta says happily, bouncing over. Catra clenches the charm for a moment, letting out a breath before changing it back.

“Entrapta?”

The princess tilts her head. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For helping the others rescue me after _someone_ stabbed and kidnapped me.” Adora rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry you were left behind.”

To say Entrapta is surprised is an understatement. “I-It’s okay,” she says uncertainly, hair flexing toward the sword. Catra hands it over, turning to Adora.

“Can I borrow a tracker pad?”

* * *

“Completely irresponsible, going out to the middle of nowhere and—”

“Mom, I know!” Glimmer throws her hands up. “I know, I know _all of this_ , but we don’t have time right now! We need to save Catra!”

“And how do you propose doing that?”

“Um… well…”

Perfuma, Frosta, and Mermista look at each other, then at Bow. They’ve been cast out of the war room for the mother and daughter to argue, as if that will stop them from listening. “You want to propose yet another mission into the Fright Zone with no plan.” Angella’s voice is flat. “To rescue someone who handed herself over to the Horde willingly.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Glimmer protests. “She was trying to help us. She’s… She’s hurting. A lot.”

Angella sighs, closing her eyes for a long moment. “I understand that we’ve asked a lot of her, and that she’s been conflicted. But she’s made her choice.”

Bow can hear the pain in Angella’s voice. He knows she cares about Catra. Not being able to help her must be killing the queen. Glimmer, apparently, is less aware. “What about Shadow Weaver? She knows the Horde. Maybe she—”

“Shadow Weaver can not be trusted. And I will _certainly_ not trust her with Catra’s safety.”

“But _you’re_ not doing anything for her, either!” Glimmer yells. “She _needs_ us! If we just turn our backs on her—”

“No.” The queen’s voice is cold now. “We are not putting more people in danger. We need to think of the Rebellion as a whole, not just one person.”

“You don’t care about the Rebellion!” Bow winces. He already knows that’s too far. “All you do is stay in the castle and make excuses to not fight! The Rebellion was frozen for years until _I_ started doing something. And if you won’t help—”

They hear Angella’s chair scrape against the floor as she stands. “I said _no_.” The authority in her voice is undeniable. “I am your queen, and your leader, _Commander_ Glimmer. You will _not_ be leading another rescue mission into the Fright Zone unless you can come up with a reasonable plan. That is my final word on the matter. Do you understand?”

A long moment of silence follows before Glimmer says, “Yes,” in a small voice. Bow gestures to the princesses, and they hurry down the hall, letting themselves into Glimmer’s room just as she teleports in.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Bow says, reaching to hug her — then stops when his tracker pad goes off. “Huh, incoming call…” He accepts the call. Catra’s face appears on the screen. “Catra!”

“What?!” Four princesses are immediately on top of him, trying to look at the screen as well.

“ _Jeez, guys, it’s been like three hours. Are you_ that _bored without me? Go liberate a village or something_.”

Glimmer grabs the tracker pad and teleports up to her bed. “Are you okay?! Is Adora holding you hostage? Is she _there_? Blink twice if you’re doing this against your will.”

Catra sighs; Glimmer hears a snort and a muttered, “ _Princesses_ ,” somewhere off screen.

“ _I chose to go with her, Glimmer_.” Real name. That’s serious.

“I know, but you… you wouldn’t…” Glimmer deflates, tears in her eyes. “What’re you doing, Catra?”

Catra’s shoulders slump, gaze dropping to the floor. “ _I have to fix this. Even if it means helping the Horde. Hordak is the only person with the technology that can possibly make a difference._ ”

“Did you give them the sword?” No answer. “Catra!”

“ _Look, you don’t get it!_ ” Catra snaps. “Your _ancestors and… past self, or whatever, didn’t epically fuck up the entire planet! I’ve got this under control, okay? I just… I need you to trust me right now, and_ not _do anything stupid._ ”

“ _You_ need _us_ to trust you? How can we do that when you don’t even trust us?”

“ _Shut up, you know I trust you!_ ”

“You _left us_ for the Horde!”

“ _I didn’t_ —!” Catra stops, running a hand through her hair and taking a deep breath. “ _I’m coming back after all of this. There’s still going to be a war to fight, and I know which side I’m on. I’m not staying here. But right now I_ need _Hordak’s help._ ”

“And what about what Shadow Weaver said? About the Horde armies that could invade the planet?”

“ _It’s not like they’re going to be waiting to ambush us. We have time to prepare._ ”

“Prepare to fight a huge army?” Bow can’t help but notice how much Glimmer sounds like her mother in that moment. “How?”

“ _I don’t know! I don’t know, okay? But we’re not going to get anything done if we just keep sitting in this empty universe and fighting. Something has to move._ ” She sounds tired. She looks tired. “ _Please, Glimmer. Let me deal with this. I’ll be back before you know it. Okay?_ ”

Glimmer looks helplessly at Bow, then back at Catra. “Okay,” she says quietly. “Stay safe. Punch Adora for me.”

“ _Oh, of course._ ”

She ends the call. Glimmer looks at the blank screen for a moment, then frowns, and teleports away.

* * *

Catra sighs, dropping back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. “Nice digs. Beats the hell out of the bunks.”

Adora, who’s leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, shrugs. “Yeah. It’s a room. How are you not constantly exhausted from dealing with that princess?”

“Glimmer? She grows on you after awhile.” Catra chuckles. “You should hear her argue with Angella, it’s kind of hilarious sometimes.”

“You’re on a first-name basis with the queen?”

“Oh.” Catra winces, closing her eyes. “Yeah. Kind of.”

They sit in silence for a long moment. It’s not the same, comfortable silence they used to bask in — the silence that comes from knowing someone well enough to not need words. But it’s close. “What was that underground place we found you in?” Adora asks after a moment. Catra opens her eyes again, gaze hazy now.

“Half Moon. It’s where I… I mean, it’s the Magicats’ kingdom. Or was.”

“What—”

“Shadow Weaver.” Catra’s claws dig into the blanket. “It’s always fucking Shadow Weaver, isn’t it?”

Adora takes a moment to process that. “I hit her for you,” she says finally. Catra laughs.

“I _saw_ that. What happened?”

“I… finally figured out that she didn’t really care about you. Or me.” Adora narrows her eyes. “She never cared about us at all, did she?”

“Of course not. She’s a self-serving bitch.” Catra snorts. “I can’t believe you fell for her shit for so long.”

“Ugh, fine, you can hold that against me.”

“Oh, I can hold _that_ against you but not you _stabbing me_?”

“ _Wooooooooow_ , fine.” Adora rolls her eyes, diving forward to tackle Catra. “You can hold _stabbing you_ against me too, happy?”

Catra laughs, wiggling and trying to shove Adora off. “Yes, thank you _so much_ for your permission to be angry that you did bodily harm to me.”

They laugh, wrestling playfully for a few moments before Adora gets Catra in a headlock. “Get _off_ me you crazy person!”

“Say the magic words,” Adora sings. Catra bites her hand. “Ow!”

The distraction is enough for Catra to break free and roll out of arm’s length, laughing. They both giggle madly, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed.

But the laughter dies away eventually, and they find themselves staring at the ceiling. “You said there was nothing for you in the Fright Zone,” Adora finally says quietly. Catra lets out a long sigh.

“I didn’t mean — that didn’t include you. If you would’ve just _listened_ to me about Shadow Weaver—”

“You still wouldn’t come back even after she was gone!” Adora protests, sitting up. “You just told… _Glitter_ , or whatever, that you’ll go back to Bright Moon after all of this.”

“Well… yeah, there’s still a war to fight.” Catra sits up as well, blinking at Adora. “Etheria still needs a protector and that’s… me.”

“No, it’s _She-Ra_.” It’s hard to miss the resentment in Adora’s voice.

“Yeah, and _I’m_ She-Ra, so…”

“So what, a princess and a weird AI tell you that you have some weird destiny and you just go along with it?” It sounds crazy when she puts it that way. “I mean… come on, Catra. You’ve never listened to anyone in your life. Why start now?”

Catra chuckles, tucking her arms under her head and closing her eyes. “You’re such an idiot.” The words are spoken with too much fondness to be cruel. “It’s not just following orders. Sometimes I actually feel like I’m… I dunno, making a difference. Making the world _better_. That’s more than I ever would’ve accomplished here. And you can’t tell me you’re _really_ happy with all of this.”

She waves a hand around the room. Adora looks around, then drops her gaze to the ground. “I… I don’t know. But wasn’t _this_ always the plan? We were gonna rise up and run this place together.”

“I know, but Adora…” Catra sits up, eying her best friend seriously. “You _know_ the Horde is the bad guy in all this.”

“I didn’t know that mattered to you,” Adora says quietly.

“I thought it mattered to _you_.”

“I thought so too, I guess.” She shrugs. “But you left, and it… felt like nothing really mattered anymore.”

Catra hates to admit that she understands what Adora means, but… as much as she loves Glimmer and Bow, they don’t fill the Adora-shaped hole in her life. “You don’t… _have_ to stay here, you know,” Catra points out slowly. Adora looks up at her.

“What do I do, _join the Rebellion_?”

“Or just leave, I dunno,” Catra says. “Maybe you could be like, a mercenary or something. But the Horde isn’t your only option. And if you did want to join the Rebellion, I bet they’d take you. Angella apparently loves mothering broken people. Just turn on the big old puppy eyes, and Bow will want to keep you within an hour.”

Adora stares at Catra for a long moment. “That’s insane. You know that, right? You get She-Ra to hide behind, I’m just—”

“Someone I would vouch for on my life.”

“Wow, do you like me?” Adora teases, grinning wickedly. “How embarrassing for you.”

“Oh shut _up_.” Catra reaches over to shove Adora. “I can’t believe I just tried to be sincere with you. What a joke.”

“Bright Moon’s making you soft.”

“It _is_.” Catra groans. “They really like talking about _feelings_ around there. It’s like this whole _thing_. Talk about how you’re feeling Catra, don’t just punch the wall, _tell us_ things, we’re your _friends_ —”

“That sounds like the most annoying thing ever,” Adora says without a hint of sarcasm. Of course she understands. Catra smiles despite herself. “And you want me to go _live there_? Maybe try and sell me on something other than _we talk about feelings_.”

“Fine.” Catra stretches, humming. “Let’s see… they have real food. Not just ration bars, like, actual food.”

Adora raises an eyebrow. “What’s _actual_ food?”

“You know, like… real food. Fruits and chocolates and meat. I’ve had fish.” Catra grins. “It’s soooooooooooooo good. Don’t tell Sparkles I said that, though. Also, her name is Sparkles, not Glitter. She can’t have two nicknames.”

“Do you ever call her by her _actual_ name?”

Catra shrugs. “Sometimes. Not really. I think she’s gotten used to it by now. Oh, the beds are pretty cool. Like, not a stone slab.”

“Hey, I like my stone slab,” Adora argues half-heartedly.

“They’re actually kind of unreasonably soft, honestly. I sleep in the window nook a lot.”

“Wow, a _window nook_. Fancy.”

“Shut _up_.” Catra rolls her eyes. “Why do I want you to come with me again?”

“Because you liiiiiiiiiiike me.” Adora sits up, reaching over to scratch Catra’s ears. Catra ducks away, swatting at her arm. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.”

“First of all, I _don’t_ like you. Second, bullshit you won’t tell anyone. You can’t keep a secret to save your damn life.”

“Suuuuuuuuure, Catra. Sure.”

* * *

“Ah, Princess. I had a feeling I would be seeing you sooner or later.”

Glimmer’s lips twitch into a scowl, her eyes narrowing. She feels sick being here, in front of Catra’s abuser, about to ask her for help. But this is partially _her_ fault. She can help clean it up.

“Catra’s gone.”

“Of course she is.” Shadow Weaver sneers. She’s perfectly comfortable in her prison, with a chair to lounge in and a book. Why does she get to be comfortable? “She’s weak. She went with Adora, didn’t she?”

Glimmer’s jaw clenches. “We found Half Moon.”

“Oh, did you? Were there any survivors?”

“ _No_. You’re a monster.”

“And yet, here you are.” Shadow Weaver is not at all bothered, of course. She has leverage. She knows it. Glimmer is here for a reason. “You must need something only I can provide. I can offer plenty of insight into Adora and Catra and how to exploit their weakness for each other—”

“We need to get into the Fright Zone and stop Catra from making a huge mistake,” Glimmer snaps. “She’s giving them the sword. They have everything they need to make a portal work now.” That brings Shadow Weaver up short. “She’s scared, and she’s hurt, and she thinks she’s fixing the mistakes everyone else made. She won’t listen—”

“Catra’s never been known for her ability to _listen_.” The alarm is clear in Shadow Weaver’s voice despite the jab. “If Hordak has what he needs to open his portal, he will do so immediately. The Alliance will never make it in time. But perhaps…”

Glimmer narrows her eyes, taking a step closer. “ _Perhaps_?”

“Let me out, and I can help you teleport right into the heart of the Fright Zone.”

That gets a laugh from Glimmer. She thought this woman was _smart_. “I couldn’t even get to the edge of the Fright Zone without running out of power. I’m nowhere near strong enough.”

“But I can make you stronger.” Glimmer’s eyes widen. “I’m still the only sorceress who has ever been able to tap into a Runestone. If you allow me to access your connection to the Moonstone, I can enhance your powers. You could teleport us all the way there.”

 _All the way there_. Without running out of power or collapsing or being useless. “You can really make me that powerful?” she asks in a small voice.

“You think of yourself only as a princess. But you’re the child of a great sorcerer. You have a more powerful connection to magic than you’ve ever realized.” She holds out a hand. “Let me show you.”

Glimmer folds her arms, trying to defend herself against… something. Shadow Weaver? Her own desires? “I’ll get back to you.”

She disappears before Shadow Weaver can protest.

* * *

“Shadow Weaver? Are you kidding?”

Bow isn’t impressed. Glimmer hadn’t expected him to be happy with this development. “I know, I _know_ , but she knows the Fright Zone, and she can help—”

“She’s just using you to escape!”

“But if it’s still _my_ power, do you think she can really use it?” Glimmer knows she grasping at straws. She’s desperate. They _need_ to stop this.

“I don’t _know_. That’s the problem. No one knows.” But Bow knows that look in Glimmer’s eyes. “You’re going to go with her anyway, aren’t you?”

“Someone needs to stop this. Someone needs to save Catra from herself.”

Bow sighs. “Okay. But you’re not going alone. I still don’t trust her.”

“Neither do I,” Glimmer admits. “But if she helps us, then at least she’s making herself useful and not just lounging around in her cell. Mom gave her a _chair_.”

“Hospitality is a big deal.”

“She’s — ugh, never mind. Let’s go.”

Bow takes her hand, squeezing it tightly, and they teleport back to Shadow Weaver to finish their deal with the devil.

* * *

“I think you’d really like cake.”

Adora raises an eyebrow, looking down at Catra. They’re still fantasizing about living in Bright Moon together. _Fantasizing_ because it seems too ridiculous to be reality. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s like… like the grey bars, but waaaaaaay sweeter. And I know grey’s your favorite.”

“You keep talking about food, and now I’m getting hungry.”

Catra laughs. “Of course you are. When _aren’t_ you hungry? I heard your stomach growling when you were _sleeping_ sometimes.”

“Shut up.” Adora throws her pillow at Catra, smiling. “C’mon, let’s get something to eat. Do you think you can stand to go back to ration bars after all that great _real_ food?”

“No, but it’s not like I have a choice.”

The alarm blares overhead as Catra stands. She looks up, then looks at Adora. “I knew she wouldn’t listen.”

Adora shoots her a sharp look. “You don’t seriously think — how would they even get here?”

“Glimmer’s stubborn as fuck. Come on.”

They hurry out of the room and down the halls, turning a few corners before running into—

“ _Shadow Weaver_?”

Well, Shadow Weaver, Glimmer, and Bow, but the sorceress is who Catra fixes on first. Adora takes a step forward to put herself in front of Catra, arm out as if to guard her. “Oh, Adora.” Shadow Weaver sighs, sounding ridiculously like a put-out mother. “What have I told you about getting mixed up in Catra’s nonsense?”

“At least I’m not literally holding hands with a princess.”

“Catra.” Glimmer steps forward, releasing Shadow Weaver’s hand. “ _Please_ , we have to talk about this.”

Catra eyes her warily, taking a step back. “Why are you with Shadow Weaver?”

Glimmer’s eyes widen as she realizes her big mistake, far too late — aligning herself, however reluctantly, with the woman who had tortured Catra for her entire life. “We needed her help getting here—”

“I told you not to come! I have this under control.”

“No, you don’t!” Glimmer throws her hands up, exasperated. “You’re helping Hordak do something that could destroy Etheria because you think _you_ have to make up for what people did hundreds of years ago!”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re going to get us killed, you stupid _child_ ,” Shadow Weaver hisses, glaring at Catra with obvious hatred behind the mask. Catra clenches her fists, hissing.

“Ignore her,” Bow says, stepping up to stand with Glimmer. “We know you think you’re doing the right thing, Catra, and maybe you are, we don’t know. But that’s kind of the problem. We don’t know enough about the other universe or how the portal works or what we’re getting ourselves into. What if you do something you regret?”

Catra is still looking between them, distrust obvious in her gaze. But something else is starting to stir in her as well. “What do you two know?” Adora snaps, stepping up to defend Catra.

“What do _you_ know?” Glimmer shoots back. “It’s not like _you’ve_ ever had Catra’s best interests at heart.”

Adora winces back slightly. Glimmer’s not _wrong_ , but it still hurts. “Oh, and you have? The only reason she’s with you is because of She-Ra. You wouldn’t have cared about her otherwise.”

“You’re _all_ missing the point,” Shadow Weaver cuts in loudly. No one notices the way Catra flinches back. “This isn’t about _Catra_ , it’s about stopping Hordak and the portal. And if _you two_ —” she focuses on Adora and Catra, “won’t help, then you can stand aside and let someone else fix _your_ mistakes for you.”

Catra takes a step back. And then another. Her heartbeat is in her ears, mind racing.

_The Magicats betrayed the First Ones._

_The First Ones were making a weapon that would destroy Etheria._

_Mara trapped Etheria in an empty universe in a fit of madness._

_Mara was actually saving Etheria from a worse evil._

_Opening the portal would put Etheria back where it belongs._

_Opening the portal would put Etheria in danger._

_Hordak was always going to do this, though, with or without the sword. What if this way is safer?_

_What if it’s a mistake?_

“…Catra?”

Adora’s voice barely makes it passed the rushing noise in her ears. She’s backed up slowly, away from everyone; after a moment she turns and runs. Everyone tries to chase her, but she’s faster, and she knows the vents. They don’t stand a chance.

It’s not quite as easy as it was when she was little, but Catra still knows the vents better than anyone. She finds Hordak’s lab, and sees Entrapta working at a computer.

“Entrapta!”

The princess jumps as Catra bursts out of the vents. “Oh, hi Catra! Do you like using the vent system to move around as well? I hid there for a couple days before Adora found me, it’s really fascinating—”

Catra grabs her by the shoulders, not even listening to what she’s saying. “Tell me about the portal,” she demands. The princess tilts her head.

“What do you want to know?”

“Is it dangerous? What do you know about what’s waiting on the other side?”

“Science always has a few dangers.” She’s far too blase about this. “Hordak’s told me a bit about the other universe and where he came from, it’s all quite interesting—”

“Am I making a mistake?”

The question catches Entrapta off guard. She stares at Catra, eyes meeting for a long moment before she turns back to the screen. “I don’t think it’s a mistake. But… it’s science. One-hundred percent certainty is impossible.”

Catra’s fingers tighten around Entrapta’s arms. “What could happen if things go wrong?”

Entrapta’s eyes dodge around the lab, frowning. “I would have to run a few tests to pick out possible anomalies.”

“Can you do that? Now?”

Her eyes focus on Catra, and she nods slowly. “I can look into it and—”

“Entrapta!”

Hordak’s voice echoes through the lab. Catra straightens up to meet the man’s gaze. He glares back at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I had some questions about the portal,” she replies as calmly as she can manage. “I assume I’m allowed to ask, seeing as how I _gave_ you the sword.”

Hordak’s eyes narrow. But he notices that Entrapta seems relaxed enough. So he nods, letting it go. “What _questions_ can I help you with?”

“You have an army waiting for you on the other side of the portal, right?”

“The plan is to get them a signal so they can open their own portal and invade Etheria.”

“Yeah, see, that’s where I’m having problems.” Catra steps forward. “I told you to get off Etheria and leave us alone if we pull this off. Why should I trust that you’ll keep up your end of the bargain?”

“That seems like something you should have thought of _before_ you gave me the sword.”

He’s right. Catra knows he’s right. She steels herself, putting on the same face she had for years when dealing with Shadow Weaver. “I can still take it back. I gave it to Entrapta, not to you.”

“And you believe she’ll take your side?”

Not really. Catra can hear Entrapta shuffling uncertainly behind her, caught off guard by suddenly being in the middle of this. “If you opened the portal right now, could you guarantee it would work? Putting aside the fact that I don’t need the sword to kill you if you go back on our deal.”

Hordak sneers, clearly unimpressed. That’s the problem with the Horde. It’s always underestimated what Catra is capable of when pushed to the edge. “The portal has everything it needs to work correctly. Entrapta, do you believe there could be any problems with activating it now?”

“There’s always a chance of a few anomalies,” Entrapta says quietly. “I would have to run more tests to be sure. But everything up to the point has gone according to plan.”

“The princesses are here to stop you.” Catra’s gaze is hard and cold as she looks Hordak right in the eye. “They think I was wrong to give you the sword.”

“And what do _you_ believe?”

She isn’t sure anymore. That’s the problem. “I believe putting Etheria back where it belongs is the right choice. But I’m still its protector. And if you do anything to endanger the planet, I _will_ kill you.”

Hordak is clearly unruffled by the threat. Good. Maybe it’ll make him easier to fight, if it comes down to it. “Then perhaps you should make peace with your choices now instead of letting others try to tell you what’s _right_.”

A familiar tinkle of bells echoes in the air; Catra snaps around to see Glimmer and Shadow Weaver appear in the middle of the lab, just a few feet away.

“We left Bow—”

“ _Focus!_ ” Shadow Weaver snarls, squeezing her hand. A sickly aura forms around them as she channels Glimmer’s power. Is _this_ the deal she made to get Shadow Weaver’s help?

“You manipulative _bitch_ —”

Catra is scowling as she storms forward, claws bared, but Shadow Weaver blasts her back into the far wall. “Catra!” Glimmer yanks her hand from Shadow Weaver’s, cutting her off. The lab door opens, Adora bursting through, swinging her staff to knock an arrow out of the air. Bow is right behind her.

“ _Enough_!”

Hordak’s furious voice cuts through the haze in Catra’s head; she looks up blearily to see Hordak ripping a pillar out of the ground ( _that seems a bit dramatic_ ), and swings it as Shadow Weaver and Glimmer. The sorceress grabs Glimmer’s hand to throw the pillar off its path. Catra straightens up as the lab shakes, machinery raining down from the walls and ceilings. She sees Adora duck under a piece of falling debris, barely missing being crushed, but putting them both near the portal lever, alone, with everyone else cut off on the other side. Their gazes meet. They don’t need words.

_Is this what you want?_

She wants to fix this. If that means working with Hordak… well, Glimmer aligned herself with Shadow Weaver. What’s the difference at this point?

Catra nods. They move, grabbing the lever.

And together, they pull it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Portal next chapter. Who's excited?
> 
> (No really, please tell me if you're excited, I really love getting people's reactions to things)


	6. In A Perfect World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is perfect?

Catra’s eyes shoot open.

The ceiling above her is… unfamiliar. No, it’s familiar. It’s her room, how could she not recognize it?

She sits up, head snapping around. Artificial light slips in through the curtains of a window, casting shadows around the room. She can make out the outline of a dresser, a wardrobe, an open door that leads to the connected bathroom…

What is wrong with her? She presses a hand to her forehead, taking a few deep breaths. She can’t remember what she was dreaming about, but that must have something to do with her… disorientation. Right?

A knock echoes at the door. She jumps, looking to it. “Um… come in?”

The door creaks open; a young woman with dark brown fur and bright green eyes pokes her head in. “Good morning, Princess. Vice-Captain Adora is here to see you.”

Someone groans behind the woman. “You _know_ you don’t have to call me that…”

Catra smiles. That’s a voice she’d know anywhere. “Hey, Adora.”

The other magicat smiles and steps aside, letting Adora into the room. “Sleeping in again?” she teases as she crosses the room to open the curtains, letting light in, then joining Catra on the bed. She tilts her head, frowning slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I… I had a weird dream.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t remember. That’s the problem.” Catra shakes her head. “It’s nothing, I’m sure. You know how dreams are.”

“I mean, I always hope you’re dreaming about me…”

Catra snorts, shoving Adora away. “You are _such_ a dork.”

Adora laughs, grabbing Catra and pulling her in for a kiss. Catra relaxes against her, smiling, finally feeling better. The world is clicking back into place. She’s with Adora. Everything is fine.

“Please tell me you didn’t wake up at the crack of dawn and spend all day walking here.”

“Of course not.” Adora sounds offended, as if that isn’t something she’s done before. “Glimmer dropped me off.”

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled when she doesn’t have to do that anymore.”

“I think she’s still mad that you’re stealing me.”

“Boohoo.” Catra leans in to steal another kiss. “Maybe she should marry you if she wants to keep you around.”

“I definitely do _not_ want to marry Glimmer.” Adora laughs.

“Wait, are you _choosing_ to marry me?” Catra gasps. “That’s so embarrassing, Adora. Do you _like_ me?”

Adora shoves her away. “No. I just don’t want to take over when Juliet retires.”

“Like she’s ever going to retire,” Catra scoffs. “What would Queen Angella and King Micah do without her?”

“I’m _sure_ they’d survive.”

“Maybe.” Catra climbs out of bed, going to get dressed. “Come on, let’s get breakfast.”

She dresses in her deep maroon robes, trimmed with a darker red, and settles her mask on her head before reaching for Adora’s hand. Adora smiles, taking her hand. “Do I have to wear fancy robes when I marry you?”

“Not until I take over as queen, don’t worry. You can keep your stupid jacket.”

“It’s not stupid,” Adora insists, pulling at her jacket — a light purple zipper-up with white sleeves. Bright Moon colors.

“Uh huh. Would it kill you to at least change to a different color?”

“Why? You jealous that I’m still repping Bright Moon?” Adora teases. Catra shoves her away.

“I change my mind. Go away forever.”

She doesn’t, of course. They enter the dining room hand in hand, and Catra smiles when she sees her mothers are still there, wrapped up in a rather enthusiastic conversation, if their hand gestures were anything to go by. Lyra lights up when she sees the two — mostly her future daughter-in-law.

“Adora, good! We were just talking about clothing. You still need to be measured.”

Adora’s smile looks absolutely pained. Catra bites down a laugh as she swoops in to kiss Lyra, then C’yra. “Sometimes I think Mama is happier to see Adora than she is me.”

“You know that isn’t true,” C’yra scolds her with a playful smile, squeezing her arm. The truth is that there’s not a lot of time until the wedding — just a couple of months, which feels long enough in Catra’s opinion, but her mothers insist it’ll fly by. And Adora doesn’t spend nearly enough time in Half Moon (again, in Catra’s opinion), so they have to ambush her for wedding talk when they can.

They get through the meal without too much difficulty, and Catra drags her out to the garden for a walk after. “I love the gardens,” Adora says with a content sigh as they make their way down the path. She brushes her fingers against the flowers, smiling. “Are you ever going to tell me what your ridiculous bouquets mean?”

“I go through all the trouble of creating beautiful bouquets for you. You can do some legwork and figure out the meanings for yourself,” Catra teases.

“I tried asking Lyra. She won’t answer.”

“That’s not what doing the legwork yourself means!” Catra laughs, pushing Adora and rolling her eyes. “Just find a book about flowers, I’m sure there’s one in Bright Moon’s library.”

“Why can’t you just tell me?” Adora whines, leaning on Catra.

“Because it shouldn’t be that hard for you to figure it out just using common sense.” Catra knocks her knuckles against Adora’s forehead. Adora grabs her hand and tugs her close, kissing her.

“But I want to know exactly how _much_ you love me,” she whispers against Catra’s lips.

“I am _not_ feeding your ego,” Catra says, smiling, before pressing closer to kiss her again.

They resume their walk eventually, Catra beginning to grab flowers and handing them to Adora. “Let’s see if you can figure it out on your own. This is a white Camellia.”

“Okay?” She twirls the flower uncertainly.

“It’s meaning is part of your name.”

Adora frowns, tilting her head. “Adora,” she says slowly.

“Riiiiiiiiiiiiight.”

“I… don’t get it.”

“For the love of — you’re lucky I love you,” Catra scoffs. “ _Adorable_. It means adorable you absolute _dork_.”

“Oh.” Adora’s eyes light up as the words set in. “Oh! Aaawww, you think I’m adorable?”

“No, I think you’re a dummy.” She grabs another one, smiling despite herself. “Red Chrysanthemum. This one is about as easy as it gets.”

“You just like making fun of me, don’t you?” Adora grumbles, but she’s smiling. “Um… I dunno, you _did_ just call me a dummy, so…”

“It doesn’t mean _that_.” Catra sighs heavily. “It means I love you.”

“Aaaawwww.”

“Are you going to _aaawww_ at everything? That one shouldn’t even be a surprise!”

“I know, I know. It’s just so sweet how you can say so much with flowers.” Catra smiles, grabbing a white Hibiscus and tucking it into Adora’s hair. “What does that one mean?”

“Not gonna tell you.”

Adora huffs. “Why _not_?”

“Because you’ll probably hate it.” It means _delicate beauty_. Adora would absolutely take offense to being called _delicate_. But it makes Catra happy.

“You don’t know that if you don’t tell me,” Adora pushes. Catra grabs another flower. “Is that a rose? Those mean love, right?”

“Red ones do. Pink ones mean happiness.” Another flower goes to the small bouquet. “Violet.”

“Ummmmm. I don’t know.” Adora sighs. “You just like making fun of me, don’t you?”

“It means loyalty. Devotion. Faithfulness. You know, all those things that come with marriage.”

Adora gives the bouquet a dopey little smile. “I really should learn more about flowers so I can do bouquets for you too.”

“I’m sure Mama would be happy to help you. She keeps telling me I need to hurry up and give her grandchildren so she can pass her teachings on…”

Catra’s voice drifts off when she sees Adora blushing, and she realizes what she said. They haven’t really… talked about kids. “I’m sure she’d be just as happy to teach you,” she corrects herself quickly. “She just wants someone to listen—”

“Do… Do you want kids?”

Okay. They’re doing this. “I’m not sure,” Catra admits. “I mean… not _right now_.”

“No, definitely not right now,” Adora agrees quickly. “But… maybe? Someday?” She gasps suddenly. “Would they have little magicat ears?”

Catra laughs, tugging Adora close again.

“Your priorities are…”

Her voice drifts off when something moves in the corner of her eye. She turns quickly to see a mass of white disappearing into the nearby bushes. “What the…”

“Catra?” Adora calls after her, frowning, as she walks toward the bushes. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought I saw…”

Nothing. There’s nothing there when she parts the shrubbery to look. Just more flowers. “Thought you saw what?” Adora’s voice is wary now; Catra can practically hear her going into threat assessment mode.

“Um… nothing I guess.” She looks down at the bush, passively noting the flowers. Gladiolus. _Remembrance._ She brushes her fingers against the flowers before straightening up again. “Why don’t we head into the village? Maybe we can find a new jacket that you’ll tolerate.”

“Just admit you’re jealous that I wear Bright Moon colors. It’s okay, really.”

Adora is smirking, daring Catra to take the bait. She rolls her eyes, gently tugging Adora’s ponytail as she walks by.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Normally, Catra would need a guard of some kind to walk down to the village — not that she thinks anyone would ever hurt her. Magicats are peaceful. But her mothers are overprotective. They trust Adora, though; they always have. It’s certainly _odd_ to marry outside of the magicat kingdom, but they never judged Adora or made her feel unwelcome. Catra is grateful for their easy acceptance of this.

The tailor greets them as they walk into the shop, humbled by the presence of the princess. Not that Catra doesn’t make a habit of visiting whenever she can. She likes the village. She likes her people. But they always seem slightly awestruck by her.

“We’re trying to get Adora a better color for her jacket,” she explains, pointedly ignoring Adora mouthing _she’s jealous_ to the tailor. The old tomcat chuckled.

“I’m sure we can find something suitable and to her liking. If you’ll come with me…”

Adora follows the tailor, smiling. Catra begins to as well, but her attention is drawn to a piece of paper on the counter — notes the tailor had abandoned when they had walked in. Except they’re not notes anymore. Instead, they’re one word.

 _Mara_.

Static consumes her hearing; her head snaps up to see cracks forming in the air around her, breaking apart the store and the world beyond, like a picture being ripped to pieces. She screams.

“Catra?”

And just like that, the world’s back to normal. Catra snaps around to look at Adora, who’s grabbed her shoulders, trying to get her attention. “What’s wrong?”

Catra opens and closes her mouth a few times, looking back at the counter. The piece of paper is just notes again. There are no shining white cracks in the air around them. Everything is fine.

Everything is fine.

“N-Nothing. It’s nothing.” She shakes her head, taking a few deep breaths and try to calm her trembling body. “I’m just… going to step outside for a minute.”

“I”ll come with you—”

“It’s fine,” Catra assures Adora gently, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Keep looking for a jacket. I think I’m just feeling a little squished.”

It isn’t a big shop, and there are clothes racks on all sides. Adora frowns but steps back, nodding, and allows Catra to step back out onto the street. She takes a deep breath, feeling herself relax slightly. This must be because of the dream she’d had — whatever it was. She’s just a little on edge. It’s fine. She’s fine. Everything is fine.

The sound of a child crying reaches her ears. She looks up without really looking, ears twitching at the noise. It’s not uncommon to heard children crying for one reason or another…

“ _Be_ quiet _you insolent child!”_

 _A hand slaps across the face, knocking her away. She tries to stifle her sobs as she straightens up, rubbing her cheek_ …

Catra recoils, a hand automatically reaching for her face before she quickly stops herself. Had that been part of her dream? Her mothers would never hit her like that, and the voice hadn’t been familiar. So why does she feel like she knows it?

“Princess?”

Someone has stopped to look at her, wide-eyed and frowning. She must look upset. She forces a smile, her voice brittle as she says, “Sorry, I’m fine.”

The man doesn’t look sure, but Adora appears behind her then, taking her hand, and he knows she’ll be okay. He leaves; Catra turns back to Adora, rolling her eyes. “Did you miss me that much?”

“Shut up.” She smiles, kissing Catra’s cheek, but something in her voice is strained. “I _actually_ found something I like. The tailor said it should be ready by the end of the day.”

Catra fakes a gasp. “ _You_ found something you _like_? Amazing. Can I see it?”

“No, it’s a surprise.”

That gets Adora a pout. “You know, I could walk back in there right now and order him to let me see it.”

“Yeah. But will you?”

Of course she won’t, and they both know it. They start down the street again, enjoying their time together. They don’t see each other nearly enough. But that’ll change when they’re married, won’t it? Adora will be here all the time. They’ll be together. It’ll be perfect.

Perfect.

Why does the word feel wrong?

_Adora sighs, resting her free hand on Catra’s arm. “We’ll be home soon. I’m sorry.”_

“ _What—”_

_A jolt runs through Catra’s spine. She yells in pain and surprise, collapsing…_

Catra jerks to a halt, pulling her hand away from Adora’s without thinking. Adora stops, surprised, and looks back at Catra, blinking. “What’s wrong?”

“I, um…”

She’s being ridiculous. She shakes her head, letting out a long breath, and shoots Adora a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Sorry. The dream I had is staying with me.”

Adora carefully reaches out, grasping her arm again and squeezing. “It’s okay. It was just a dream, right? Nothing can hurt you here.”

Catra nods, smiling and sliding her arm to grasp Adora’s hand. “Yeah. I’ve got the best guard in all of Etheria with me. I’m not scared.”

Adora grins, tugging her close and kissing her again. Catra sighs, content, her nerves settling. “We should go home. I’m sure Mom and Mama have a million more questions for you.”

“And I’m sure I have no answers.” Adora swallows, nervous. “Is this a big deal because I’m marrying a princess?”

“Yes.” Catra kisses her cheek. “Regret it?”

“Nah. It’s worth the extra work.”

* * *

C’yra and Lyra do indeed have ten million more questions for Adora — or that’s how it feels to her, she tells Catra in hushed tones during breaks in conversation. C’yra and Lyra hear, of course, and do their best to pretend they can’t to save Adora’s dignity. Somehow, she still hasn’t figured out that no living thing is capable of being quiet enough to go undetected by magicat hearing.

“And there’s still the matter of colors,” Lyra is saying when Catra tunes back in to the conversation. “I imagine you would look good in a nice, dark red, dear…”

“Me?” Adora looks down at herself, uncertain. “I dunno…”

“What about that dress you wore to Princess Prom?” Catra suggests. “That was red. It was a nice color on you.”

“You’re biased,” Adora informs her, rolling her eyes, but she’s smiling.

“We’ll ask Glimmer, then.” Catra looks at her mothers, hope in her gaze. “Can we take a break? I’d like to spend a _little_ time with Adora before she has to go back to Bright Moon.”

“Of course,” C’yra says before Lyra can answer. “Take some time together. You don’t get nearly enough.”

“But we need to talk more about clothing before Adora leaves!” Lyra adds. “We want this to be the perfect wedding.”

“I know, I know…”

Catra grabs Adora, dragging her out of the room. Adora relaxes noticeably once they’re in the hall. She really hates talking about clothes and what looks _good_ on her. “Relax,” Catra says, squeezing her hand. “Whatever you end up wearing, you’re going to look amazing.”

“You don’t know that. What if I look like an idiot?”

“Then you’ll be _my_ idiot, and I’ll still love you.”

Adora smiles tentatively. It’s weird to see her insecure about something, but Catra’s seen it enough to be familiar with it. “I love you too,” she says, tugging Catra into a tight hug.

“ _Mara dearie_!”

The voice echoes in Catra’s ears. She pulls away from Adora and looks around, as if she thinks she can locate the source, but she knows there isn’t one. Not one she can see, anyway. “Catra!” Adora grabs her shoulder, gently shaking her back to reality. “What’s wrong?”

“Um…” Catra shakes her head. “I… I think I need to lie down.”

“ _You can’t escape the truth, Catra. You’re not a hero. You’re a harbinger of chaos. Nothing good will ever follow you.” Catra stares up at her, too numb to react. “Come home. The Fright Zone is the only place you belong.”_

“Catra?”

She jumps. They’re back in her room. “What… how did we get here?”

“We… walked,” Adora says slowly. “Remember?”

She’s not sure _what_ she remembers anymore. Did they walk? It doesn’t feel like they did. “Maybe you should see a healer,” Adora suggests, squeezing her hand. “You’re starting to worry me—”

“Adora, how did we meet?”

The words tumble out of her mouth without her permission. Adora’s eyebrows crinkle in concern, a frown creasing her lips. “We met in Bright Moon. Your… Your moms brought you to meet the other princesses during a meeting.”

The other princesses. Glimmer. Perfuma. Mermista. Entrapta. Netossa and Spinnerella. But that doesn’t feel right. She doesn’t remember meeting them as a kid. She remembers… Adora. Only Adora.

“Catra?” Adora sounds a little scared. “Catra, talk to me. Please. What’s going on? I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Catra’s voice sounds hollow. Feels hollow. She swallows hard, looking around the room. Why does it feel wrong? Everything is supposed to be perfect. Why does she feel like she’s standing in a dream?

White light flashes again, cracks appearing in the air as if reality is falling apart. Catra jerks back in surprise, yelping.

“ _If you open a portal, death and destruction will follow.”_

And the room is back to normal again. Adora’s hands are tight on her shoulders, her voice hopping up an octave or two in her concern. “I _really_ think you need to see a healer—”

“No.” Catra takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself. “I don’t think this is something healers can fix.”

She steps away, stopping Adora when she tries to follow. “I’ll be right back. Just wait, okay?”

“I’m not just letting you wander off—”

“I’m going to see my moms. That’s it. I’ll be back in a few.”

She takes off before Adora can protest. Adora will probably chase her, but she’s faster. She’s always been faster. It’s one thing she’s certain of.

It’s the only thing she’s certain of, at the moment.

C’yra and Lyra are in C’yra’s office when Catra bursts through the door, frazzled and breathless. “Catra! What’s wrong—”

“How old am I?”

Her mothers exchange uncertain glances. “You’re… twenty, sweetheart. You know that.”

“When was I born? When did I meet Adora? When did we… get _engaged_?” She rips her mask off her head, metal edges cutting into her palms as she grasps it. “What is this?”

“C’yra and Lyra exchange uncertain glances. “Catra, maybe you should rest—”

“Answer me!”

Golden light bursts to life as the mask starts glowing, and for the first time since waking up, Catra feels as if she can _see_. Her mothers are… wrong. Glowing. Fading. Catra backs up, shaking. And in that moment, she knows… this isn’t real.

None of this is real.

 _But it could be._ The thought startles her. _It could be real. You could have this family. This kingdom. Adora. All you have to do is let go and forget_.

No. Catra squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head. She can’t do that. She knows she can’t. “I’m sorry,” she whispers to C’yra and Lyra. She wonders if they were ever real. Or if they had just been created for this perfect world.

She turns and runs out again, sprinting down the hall to find Adora. They crash into each other on the stairs; Catra barely grabs Adora to keep her from falling.

“There you are! Will you please tell me what’s going on? What — W-Why is your mask glowing?”

Catra meets her gaze, sees the fear in her eyes. _Adora_. Sweet, naive, well-meaning Adora. “It’s not real,” she says quietly, tears filling her eyes. “We made a mistake.”

“What do you mean?”

The ground shakes, opening up beneath them. Adora tackles Catra, sending them both back down to the ground, then grabs her hand to drag her up so they can run. Catra fumbles to settle the mask back on her head, then grabs Adora and jumps, hauling them both up to the nearest window sill. “What…” Adora is looking around, stunned, before her eyes settle back on Catra. “What’s happening?”

“I was wrong.” Catra drags her arm across her eyes. “I was wrong, Adora. I’m so, so sorry. This isn’t what I wanted.”

They jump from the sill, landing outside, and beginning running down the path to the village. Everything is shaking and crumbling now. “Catra, I don’t understand,” Adora says desperately. “What do you mean we were wrong? What’s happening?”

“We pulled the lever.” Catra can see it in her head now, clear as day. The desperate looks they gave each other before they silently agreed. Their hands grasping the lever. Together. “I thought we were doing the right thing, and you listened to me, and I… this is all my fault.” Her voice breaks on the last word as she tries not to cry. “I just wanted to fix everything. I wanted things to be _okay_ again—”

She stops abruptly as they run into someone, knocking them both back. “Well now!” a reedy voice declares. “It’s about time! Keeping Madame Razz waiting. I’m an old lady, you know, I don’t have time for this!”

Catra looks up, surprised. Pinkish skin, white hair, large glasses magnifying her eyes…

“ _Razz?_ ”

She surges up, grabbing the old lady by the shoulders. “ _Please_ be normal, I don’t have time for—”

“You don’t have time for a lot, from the looks of it, Kitty.”

That surprise Catra. “You know me?”

“Of course I know you, we’ve met! Or we will meet. Hmmm.” She tilts her head, thinking. “I always get those two mixed up.”

It’s weird that this is the most _normal_ Razz has ever sounded. Catra’s hands shake as her fingers tighten. “I messed up, Razz. I tried so hard to fix everything, but I’m just like them, aren’t I? Mara and the magicats—”

“Mara and the magicats saved the world!” Razz emphasizes her words by bopping Catra’s head with her broom. “Haven’t you learned anything?” The words stun Catra into silence. “There’s still time to fix all of this. But you must act quickly. You must go back to the beginning.”

“The… what?” Catra’s mind is racing. “Do you mean the Fright Zone?”

“No, not that beginning, _your_ beginning! You need to find the sword!”

The… sword. Catra’s eyes widen as the pieces click into place. “The sword. Glimmer and Bow!” She whirls to look at Adora, who’s still staring in disbelief. “We have to find—”

She stops, horrified, when she sees the ground behind Adora cracking apart. There’s no thought in her next actions; she grabs Adora’s arm and whirls to shove her away, nearly throwing her into Razz. The old lady’s grip is surprisingly strong.

“Catra—!”

The earth breaks apart, a fissure separating them. Catra stumbles back, trying to catch herself. But she already knows there’s no time left.

Her mind flashes quickly back to the hologram of Mara, sitting in the chair on the ship, bent over, injured, speaking through pain. To Half Moon, a desolate kingdom with nothing but a few bodies left of the once thriving society.

 _This_ is her legacy. This is her destiny, as She-Ra and as the last Magicat. She has to fix the world. No matter what.

Catra rips the mask off her head, throwing it to Adora. “Find Glimmer and Bow! They’ll be able to help you.” She’s not sure how, but she believes in them. Believes in the stupid Best Friend Squad. They can fix this.

“ _Catra_!”

Adora dives to try and grab Catra before she falls away, but it’s too late. All she can do is watch, horrified, as her best friend falls from sight. She drops to her knees, shaking.

 _No. No, come back. I need you. Come back_.

“You have to go, dearie.” A gentle hand rests on Adora’s shoulder. “You can still save her, but you have to go _now_.”

Adora looks up at the old lady, lost. Her resolve hardens after a moment, and she nods, pushing herself up. Find Glimmer and Bow. That shouldn’t be too hard. She knows exactly where they are.

Razz watches her run off and smiles, sweeping the ground absentmindedly. “I think you’d like them, Mara. They’re both so much like you.”

And with that she turns, walking into the encroaching abyss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh.... you might've noticed I really went in a different direction with this..... let me know what you think, maybe? I've been looking forward to posting this for MONTHS (yes I've been planning ahead that long), and it'd be really nice to hear thoughts.
> 
> Also, I know the question is coming - Is Catra the lost Magicat princess?
> 
> Answer: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ It's not going to come up again, and I've put a lot of thought into it both ways, but at the end of the day, I'm leaving it to reader interpretation. But it doesn't change the story (and Catra eventually half-asses some excuse to justify why her brain thought princess and engaged to Adora were her prefect world), and at the end of the day the magicats are still dead, sooooooooooooooo. Whatever brings you the most joy.


	7. Fixing Their Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I remember. How do we fix this?”
> 
> Adora looks up at the swirling vortex over their heads. Catra and Angella follow her gaze, find the shape right in the middle of it all. “The sword,” Catra murmurs, putting it together. “If we pull out the sword—”
> 
> “Then everything goes back to normal,” Adora finishes.
> 
> “And what happens to the person who takes the sword?” Angella asks. Adora doesn’t answer.

The run to Bright Moon takes what feels like minutes. Which is absolutely wrong, Adora thinks, because it’s definitely at least half a day’s travel. But in no time at all she’s bursting out of the woods, running to the bridge.

“Adora!” Glimmer appears beside her, beaming. “I thought you were spending the night in Half Moon? Did you bring Catra with you?”

Adora freezes, staring at the princess in disbelief. She’s talking like they’re… friends. Because they are, in her mind. She grew up with Adora. Adora _would_ have been the captain of her future guard, if not for the whole marrying Catra thing. That’s how things are in this world.

This fake world, which is falling apart, quite literally, at the seams.

Adora holds Catra’s mask close to her chest, taking a few deep breaths. “I have to talk to your parents. Now. It’s an emergency.”

Glimmer looks at the mask, then at Adora, her expression falling. “Adora? What’s going on?”

“No time. I’m sorry. We need to go _now_.”

The princess hesitates before nodding and taking Adora’s hand, teleporting them inside.

* * *

To say Micah and Angella are stunned by Adora’s story is… an understatement.

“Adora, are you… okay?” Micah asks after a moment. _Is she okay?_ No, of course not! The world is _literally_ falling apart, Catra is gone, and it’s somehow on _her_ to fix everything and as the last year and a half has proved, she is _terrible_ at fixing anything. Now she has to fix the entire world? Of course she’s not okay! What kind of ridiculous question is that?!

“Y-Yes, your majesty,” she mutters, staring at the floor. “Trust me, I’m aware of how crazy all this sounds, but it’s… it’s true.”

She remembers being in the portal room with Catra. The silent agreement to pull the lever. Grabbing it together. Sealing their fates. _Together at the end of the world_.

Except they weren’t together now.

Micah and Angella exchange looks before turning back to Adora. “Did… something happen in Half Moon?” Angella asks gently. “Did you and Catra have a fight?”

“Wha — no!” Adora’s a little insulted. “You think I’d make all this up for… for attention or something?!”

“Not necessarily, just… perhaps…”

Angella looks to Micah for help. He shakes his head. “It’s all just a little _much_ , Adora. You know we trust you—”

“Then trust me with this,” Adora says desperately. She’s never had to do something like this before — Shadow Weaver and Hordak had always been straight forward, rather than dancing around the point. She has no idea what to do. “I _wish_ this was all some lie or hallucination!” She hugs the mask tighter to her chest. “Catra… Catra sacrificed herself to save _me_ even though I don’t deserve it.”

Tears are filling her eyes now, the weight of a year of anger and hate and spite and jealousy crashing in all at once. “I treated her like she was an idiot, like she had no idea what she was doing, like there was no way she could possibly be making this kind of choice for herself. I… I _stabbed her_.” Adora laughs, almost hysterical. “She has every right to hold that against me! And then I brought her back to Shadow Weaver and I almost let her… she was going to…”

Adora shudders, squeezing her eyes shut. “And then I was mad at her for leaving. But of course she left, why _wouldn’t_ she? Shadow Weaver was terrible to her and I… I let her get away with it. I let Shadow Weaver hurt her for _years_ when I said I was protecting her. I _promised_.”

Silence follows, then the sound of footsteps, and a gentle hand rests on Adora’s shoulder. She looks up, meeting Angella’s gaze. _No wonder Catra likes it better here_ , she thinks vaguely. “Adora, we know you care about Catra. If something happened, and you say you didn’t mean for it to, then we believe you.”

_You shouldn’t. All I’ve done is hurt her. Do I really care about her at all?_

She knows the answer. She’s just been going about trying to prove it all the wrong ways.

“Give us a moment, please. Obviously we… have a lot to discuss.”

Adora nods numbly, turning and walking out. She’s barely closed the door behind her when a hand grabs her jacket, and then she’s in another room. Teleporting, she realizes faintly when she sees Glimmer and Bow in front of her. Is… Is he wearing _glasses_?

 _Focus_.

“Okay, have you lost your mind?” Glimmer demands. “You have to tell us if you’ve gone crazy.”

“What do you mean?”

“We heard what you told the king and queen,” Bow explains. “No offense, but it all sounds a bit…”

“Crazy,” Glimmer finishes for him. “It sounds crazy.”

“I’m _aware_ that it sounds crazy, okay?” Adora says impatiently. “Good to know you’re still _completely_ unhelpful and frustrating.”

Glimmer scoffs, offended. “ _I’m_ unhelpful and frustrating? You’re the stubborn one who—!” She stops very suddenly, blinking in surprise.

“Glimmer?” Bow asks uncertainly. The princess is staring at Adora now, as if seeing her for the first time. Her eyes fix on the mask.

“Catra. Where’s Catra?”

Adora’s shoulders slump. “I lost her,” she admits quietly. “But… But I think I can fix this. I _have_ to be able to fix this. There has to be a way. I’m just not sure _how_.”

Bow tilts his head, thinking. “Well, you said all of this started with a portal, right? Can you think of anyone who—” He stops, just like Glimmer had, momentary surprise, then confusion fluttering through his features. “Entrapta.”

“Entrapta!” Adora repeats, heart jumping. “Of course, she’ll have an answer, she _always_ has an answer! Whether I want it or not!” One of her less endearing traits, but it was fine. Adora would love it right now. “Glimmer, can you take us to Dryl?”

“To _Dryl_?” Glimmer repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Not really. I mean, that’s pretty far.”

Right. Of course it is. Adora blows out a long breath, running her hands through her hair; her gaze happens to fall on the window overlooking the woods. They’re starting to come apart. Just like Half Moon.

“Okay, can you teleport us to the front hall?”

“Um… probably?” She offers Adora her hand. Adora takes it, Bow resting a hand on her shoulder. And they appear in the entrance hall.

“Great! Now just a brisk… _run_ to Dryl, and—”

“What are you three doing?”

They jump, whirling to see Angella and Micah standing behind them. “Um… going for a walk?” Glimmer says weakly. Angella raises an eyebrow at her, then looks at Adora.

“If you want us to take your concerns seriously, this is hardly the way to prove—”

“I _know._ ” Adora can’t put enough stress on that word. “I know, trust me, but we _have_ to go. We have to see Entrapta.”

“Entrapta? The Dryl princess?”

“Yes! If anyone can help, it’s her. You _have_ to let us go—”

“Glimmer?”

Adora looks at Micah, then at Glimmer, who’s staring at him as if she’s just seen a ghost. _Oh_. Adora doesn’t know much about the Bright Moon monarchy. But she knows King Micah — the _real_ King Micah — died years ago.

More cracks appear in the air around them, the ground crumbling. “Oh no,” Adora groans, backing up. It’s getting worse. “We have to go. _Now_.”

Glimmer wipes the tears from her eyes, nodding and putting on a smile for her parents. “I’m sorry. But we have to fix this. We have to make it right.”

“What are you—”

Bright light flashes around them; the ground gives out from beneath Adora’s feet. She screams as she falls, vaguely hearing Bow and Glimmer fall with her…

And then they’re in a dark room, lit only by screens and with filled with robots. And one pink-haired young woman. She turns, sliding her mask up and tilting her head. “Hello! Do I know you?”

* * *

 _This_ is apparently Entrapta’s perfect reality. Alone in her castle with only her robots for friends. No human interaction. It’s a little sad, Adora thinks as she watches Entrapta babble away. Catra’s perfect reality had been them, together, happy. Glimmer’s was having her father. Bow’s was not having to be a soldier.

Entrapta’s is, apparently, complete solitude.

 _Feel bad later. Focus now_.

Adora clears her throat. “Entrapta, I know what i'm about to say sounds crazy-”

“Is this about the unstable portal slowly consuming and warping our reality?”

“Now, you’re not gonna believe—” Adora stops, blinking at her. “Wait. What did you just say?”

Entrapta walks back to her computer, tapping away at the keyboard, bringing up some images Adora doesn’t quite understand.

“Oh, I figured it out a while ago. An unstable portal is the only thing that would account for all the anormalies I've been picking up in my research. The portal exists somewhere in our world and as long as its still open, it's gonna keep to destablising reality, making this disappear until – bam!” She rockets back on her hair to stare at all of them, wide-eyed and slightly manic. “Nothing's left!” The laugh that follows is cut short as she soberly adds, “Which is a bad thing.”

“How do we stop it?” Adora asks desperately, stepping forward. Entrapta turns away, her voice soft.

“Portals are gateways.” She walks back to her computer. “Wormholes that connect one area of space to another. The only way to turn it off is from the inside. But who ever shuts down the portal can't leave. they'll be trapped between realities, possibly forever.” She pulls up a diagram as she speaks. It’s all gibberish to Adora. “Oh! Imagine the data they could collect!”

“Wait,” Glimmer demands, “so whoever turns it off will be trapped inside it forever?”

Entrapta won’t look at them as she speaks. “Exactly.”

“There must be another way!” Adora insists. “Try to remember, Entrapta. When you and Hordak built the portal machine—”

She cuts off as Entrapta gasps. “Remember…” she says distantly. “I… remember, I had a lab partner, Hordak, we were friends… I was helping him. Catra… Catra was scared it was a mistake, and…”

The castle begins to shake, snapping her out of her stupor. “No, no!” Adora protests. “This can’t be happening already! We should’ve had more time.”

“There is no more time,” Entrapta says slowly. “The portal is… following you. But why you? It’s powered by the sword, which is Catra’s, but she’s not here.”

Her eyes trail down to the mask Adora is still clinging to. “Unless… it’s following the power from the mask. The sword and the mask were created to work together, to sense each other. If Catra isn’t here, it would grab the next best thing.”

“The mask,” Adora repeats. “It’s following the mask. And I have the mask.”

“Exactly.” Entrapta nods, smiling a little, before starting to fade.

“Wait, no!” Adora springs forward to grab her, but she’s already intangible.

“You need to remove the sword from the inside,” she reminds them. “It’s powering the portal. It’s the only way to fix all of this!”

“Wait, I—!”

 _I can’t do this alone_. _I need someone._

 _I need Catra_.

The castle cracks apart around them, and then they’re in the Whispering Woods. Adora whips around, recognizing the palace they’re standing in front of — the place she’d followed Catra into once.

She doesn’t recognize the woman standing in front of the building.

But there’s no time before a fissure cracks the ground between them, a blur of pink and white energy washing her away. Adora whirls to look at Glimmer and Bow, who staring back, wide-eyed. And she feels a sharp pang of pain. These two… they had taken care of Catra when Adora couldn’t, picked up the slack where she failed. Adora owes them so much.

“I’ll fix this.” Her voice wavers slightly as she speaks. Glimmer steps forward, taking her hand. Bow takes both their hands in his.

“We believe in you.”

Adora laughs hollowly. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“No.” Glimmer smiles as she says the word. “So don’t make us regret it.”

They’re starting to fade, their hands slipping away. Adora drops her arms to her sides, watching them go. And she nods, turning to face the vast expanse of whiteness before her.

She’s not sure where she’s going, or how long she walks before a faint whimper hits her ears. Her head snaps up, eyes wide. Is someone else in here? “Hello?”

No answer. Adora turns a few times, trying to pinpoint the noise, and finally runs off to the left. She runs long enough for her side to hurt, for her breath to come in heavy pants, and she’s about to stop when she notices something huddled up ahead. Something red, with a mane of bushy brown hair.

“ _Catra_!”

She doesn’t react when Adora calls her name, or when Adora drops to the ground beside her. “Catra — hey, what’s wrong? Look at me, please—”

She slowly starts to unravel. And Adora sees the problem.

The portal’s done… _something_ to her. Her right arm and half her face are just black, as if someone erased her features but left the shape of her in place. Adora stares in horror, mouth hanging open, until Catra finally speaks.

“Adora?”

Her voice is twisted, distorted — and scared. She’s so scared. Adora hasn’t heard that in her voice since they were kids, since the days when words alone were enough to hurt her. Before she’d grown and turned hard against the world. Before the universe had conspired to break her, and succeeded in so many ways.

“I’m here.” Adora wraps her in a tight hug, taking her corrupted hand and squeezing tight. “You and me, together at the end of the world. Right?”

Catra laughs. “Right.”

They stay that way for a few moments, Adora only pulling away to slip Catra’s mask back into place. The ground cracks beneath them, opening up. Adora feels them fall, and hugs Catra closer, hiding her face in the magicat’s hair, the last safe place in the entire universe…

And then a pair of arms grabs them both, pulling them out of the white, out of the void, to the one safe place left in reality.

The girls grunt as they’re gently deposited onto the ground. Catra shoots up, patting herself down, trying not to panic. She’s fine. She’s fixed. Her arm is back to normal, her face no longer twisted, and though she hasn’t spoken yet, she knows her voice will be normal. She turns quickly to find their savior.

“Angella!”

It’s been a long, long few days, and Catra is completely wrung dry. She’ll blame that for why she throws herself at the queen and holds her tight, if ever asked. Angella holds her close, looking up to meet Adora’s gaze.

“I remember. How do we fix this?”

Adora looks up at the swirling vortex over their heads. Catra and Angella follow her gaze, find the shape right in the middle of it all. “The sword,” Catra murmurs, putting it together. “If we pull out the sword—”

“Then everything goes back to normal,” Adora finishes.

“And what happens to the person who takes the sword?” Angella asks. Adora doesn’t answer.

“They’re stuck,” Catra concludes, stepping away from Angella. “Someone has to stay here so everyone else can live.”

Silence falls, save for the winds whistling around them. “Well.” Catra rolls her shoulders, taking a deep breath. “I lived a good life.”

“Catra—”

“It’s okay.” She tries to smile as she looks back at Angella. “This is what I wanted. To fix the mistakes Mara and the magicats made. If there are no more First Ones, and no more magicats, then… then She-Ra won’t come back. And maybe it’s better that way.” She can’t help the tears that well in her eyes. “Maybe it’s better to end this curse.”

“Your existence is not a curse,” Angella protests, taking her by the shoulders. Catra laughs bitterly, wiping the tears away.

“But this is how it’s supposed to be. Destiny, or whatever. Besides, it’s all I’m good for. Taking hits for everyone else.”

A hand grabs Catra’s wrist. She turns, meeting a familiar gaze. “Hey Adora.” Words she’s uttered a million times in their relatively short lives. Words she’ll never say again.

It feels weird to think about that.

Adora pulls her forward, wrapping her in a tight hug. It’s wonderful. It’s familiar. It’s like coming home. Catra buries her face in Adora’s neck, letting herself have this one last indulgence. Adora meets Angella’s gaze. There’s a burning determination in those eyes.

“Hey.” Adora pulls away to look at Catra, giving her a small smile. “You look out for me, and I look out for you. Right?”

“Yeah.” Catra chuckles. That promise feels like another lifetime. “We’ve been really bad at that lately.”

“ _I’ve_ been really bad at it lately,” Adora corrects her. “But I’m going to fix it.”

“You’re—”

Adora knees Catra in the stomach, then shoves her back. Angella grabs Catra as she tries to recover from the surprise attack, while Adora runs to the edge of their safe spot, jumping and landing on a floating rock.

Catra coughs, trying to catch her breath. Watering eyes open just in time to see Adora jump again, higher.

“ _Adora_!”

Angella’s grip around her is surprisingly strong. The queen’s seen that determined look before — in Glimmer’s eyes. In Micah’s. It’s the look of someone ready to die to do what’s right.

“Let me _go_!” Catra’s voice cracks as she shouts, straining against the arms holding her in place. “Adora!”

She lands on another rock, closer now, and looks back. She’s smiling, Catra notes dumbly. She looks… peaceful. “I’m sorry,” she calls, voice steady. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you the way I should have. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I should’ve known — you’ve always been the smart one.”

Catra stares, horrified, and struggles to find her voice. “Are you _stupid_?! You’re going to die!”

“Yeah, well…” Adora shrugs. “I was voted most likely to die in some ridiculous way for a reason, right?” She squares her shoulders. One more jump, and she’ll be close enough to grab the sword. “You’re more than cannon fodder, Catra. You don’t just exist to take hits for other people. You’re amazing, and brave, and strong, and I wish… I wish I’d listened to you sooner. But I can do this to make up for it. I can fix all of this. It’ll be okay.”

She jumps.

Catra can only watch, Angella’s hands tight on her shoulders, as Adora grabs the sword. It crackles with energy as she pulls, grimacing. Catra’s mind has gone blank, leaving room for one errant thought — _I wonder if it hurts_.

The sword comes free. Adora stumbles back, losing her grip; it falls, the vortex collapses on itself, closing Adora in its folds.

Catra’s eyes hurt. She stares blankly as the sword floats down, reaches out automatically to catch it. She simply stares, silent, unsure if she wants to scream or cry or collapse to her knees or sleep and never wake up…

She does nothing. Her hands shake slightly, fingers tightening around the hilt of the sword, but her mind is empty.

 _I can fix all of this_.

Except it was never hers to _fix_. This isn’t Adora’s fault. Stupid, fucking, idiotic, naive Adora. Too good for the Horde, and too good for this world.

It’s not fair.

“Catra.” Angella’s voice is soft, mournful. Catra nods, raising the sword. There’s no time for her feelings. She has a world to save.

“For the honor of Grayskull.”

* * *

Catra doesn’t remember leaving the portal. Or arriving back in the lab. Or slicing the portal apart with enough intensity to cut through a building.

It’s Bow and Glimmer who snap her out of the haze, barreling into her with enough strength to nearly knock her over.

“You did it!”

“What just _happened_?!”

“I knew you’d _— Mom_?!” Glimmer nearly chokes on air when she sees her mother calmly approaching. “I — I can explain—”

“This is all very sweet,” Shadow Weaver drawled. “But I believe it would be best to make our exit now.”

“She’s right,” Angella agrees, though it looks painful for her to do so. The princesses, the queen, and Bow gather around Shadow Weaver. Catra takes a long moment before stepping close enough for the spell to catch her.

And then they’re back in Bright Moon. It’s so bright. So happy. Everything Catra’s not at the moment. Everyone else is cheering and celebrating, and Catra swears she sees Perfuma hug Shadow Weaver. She decides not to ask about it.

“Tell us everything!” Glimmer says as she tackles Catra again. Bow gets her in a hug from behind. “Mom, how did _you_ end up there?”

“It’s a long story,” Angella says.

“We pulled the lever.” Catra’s voice is dead. It fits the rest of her. “The only way to fix it was to get the sword out and go back to destroy the portal.” She transforms, happy to slip back into her own skin. She wants to throw the sword out the window right then. “But to get the sword, someone had to stay behind.”

It’s obvious when each person understands what this means, but only one of them voices the thought.

“Adora.” It’s Shadow Weaver, of course. Catra’s eyes flash; the sword drops to the ground as she closes the space between herself and her former guardian, grabbing her and shoving her as hard as she can into a wall.

“Catra—!”

“ _You_ don’t get to say her name,” Catra snarls, claws raised. “You don’t get to say her name _ever again_.” The last few days are catching up fast. Images of Half Moon, of bodies, of a world falling apart, flash before her eyes. The years of abuse, using each other as punishment and leverage over the other, the unspoken but growing resentment they felt for the responsibility. “You did _all of this_! _You_ fucked us up, _you_ made Adora think she was only worth what she could do for everyone else, you’re the reason I ended up in the Fright Zone! None of this would have happened if you’d just _died_ before you even left Mystacor!”

“Hey.” It’s Mermista, surprisingly, who grabs her wrist. “She’s not worth doing something you’ll regret later.”

Catra _vehemently_ disagrees. It’s worth a lot. Catra won’t lose any sleep. And she’ll be doing the world a favor. But she lets Mermista pull her away from the shadows, back to Glimmer’s and Bow’s waiting arms.

She’s tired. She’s _so tired_. She lets herself be wrapped up, hearing Angella call for guards to bring Shadow Weaver back to her cell. Catra wait until she knows the sorceress is gone. And then she breaks. Bow takes most of her weight as her knees collapse; he lowers her gently to the ground, where Glimmer joins them and hugs her tight. Catra knows she should be ashamed or embarrassed or… _something_. But she can’t bring herself to care.

It feels like there’s a weight on her shoulders, keeping her down, keeping her head bowed. She sags into her friends’ arms, hiccuping. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. She’s never been delusional enough to think that the world would treat her fairly — Shadow Weaver beat that notion out of her early enough — but she had never really thought it was actively against her, either. Or maybe she had just thought it didn’t matter, as long as she had Adora.

“ _Nothing bad can really happen as long as we have each other.”_

“ _You promise?”_

“ _I promise_.”

“I’m tired,” she finally whispers hoarsely. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Bow assures her while Glimmer nods vigorously, resting a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Want me to take you to your room?”

The idea of teleporting should make Catra feel sick, but she doesn’t care. She nods once, wiping her eyes over Bow’s shoulder.

And they disappear in a shower of sparkles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'll be on hiatus for two weeks, updates will resume January 29th.
> 
> Please let me know what you think?


	8. One Month Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But you won’t _talk_ to us. Please, Catra, we need you—”
> 
> “No, you need _She-Ra_ ,” Catra shoots back. “I’m just the only person unlucky enough to turn into her.”
> 
> “That’s not true!” Glimmer protests. “You’ve helped us as yourself plenty of times, and you’re our friend. No one thinks you’re _just_ She-Ra.”
> 
> Catra scoffs. “Sure. I wouldn’t even be here if I’d never found that stupid sword, and you know it.” Glimmer can’t really respond to that. It’s true that she probably never would have ended up in Bright Moon, in the Rebellion, if she hadn’t found the sword. “And _you’re_ the one who brought me here.”
> 
> Glimmer stiffens. “Are you saying this is all _my_ fault?” she asks in disbelief. “You’re the one who gave the sword to Hordak! _We_ tried to stop you!”
> 
> _The Fright Zone is the only place you belong. It’s the only place that will keep the rest of the world safe from you._
> 
> _You’re not a hero. You’re a harbinger of chaos. Nothing good will ever follow you._
> 
> “I’m saying none of this would’ve happened if I’d stayed in the Fright Zone.” Catra turns away, squeezing her eyes shut. “Just… leave me alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://crackedfishtank.tumblr.com/post/640780970702913537/image-made-for-catrasredemptions-magicatra-au check out this amazing fucking art I got commissioned.
> 
> And be ready for pain

“We’ve officially taken back Thaymor, for real,” Glimmer says proudly, tapping Thaymor on the map and turning it from red to purple. The map was still largely red, but they’re making progress.

It’s been a month since the portal. The Horde seems to be in disarray — losing their second-in-command had probably hit hard. The disorganization is working in the Rebellion’s favor. Slowly but surely, they’re taking back Etheria, village by village, town by town. It’s wonderful. It’s invigorating.

“We have guards in Erlandia, shoring up their defenses,” Bow says, tapping away on his tracker pad. “Perfuma reports all quiet on her end. Mermista washed out the one base near Salineas. It seems like a lot of their forces are pulling back. And the ones that aren’t have no idea what they’re doing.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Angella murmurs. “I was starting to get the feeling Adora was in charge of everything there.”

Glimmer’s eyes flick to the empty seat on the other side of Bow. There’s a lump in her throat that she has to swallow before she can try to speak. “Catra would probably have a little more insight on this.”

“Perhaps,” Angella agrees with a sigh. Glimmer looks at Bow, who shrugs sadly.

“I tried to talk to her yesterday, but… I think she needs a little more time. Everything with Shadow Weaver and Half Moon and the portal really got to her. I’m sure she’ll be okay, though.”

“Yeah,” Glimmer says, looking back at the table. They’ve been saying to themselves since the first day Catra cried herself to sleep in their arms. She would be okay. She just needed time. She just needed to work through things.

It’s been a month since the portal.

Catra is _not_ okay.

* * *

 _Knock knock knock knock_.

Catra snaps out of her daze, raising her eyes to stare at the door. “Catra?” Glimmer calls. She’s finally learned how to knock, Catra thinks, relaxing back into the bed. “I get it if you don’t want to talk, but if you need anything just… let me know, okay? You don’t have to be alone.”

That almost gets a laugh out of Catra. Of course she has to be alone. Doesn’t Glimmer get it? She hurts people. She doesn’t deserve friends or anyone who cares about her. She’s just going to hurt them in the end. Shadow Weaver was right. All she does is bring chaos wherever she goes.

They all would have been better off without her.

“ _I can fix all of this_.”

Catra squeezes her eyes shut, burying her face in the covers and curling tight around a pillow. Stupid fucking Adora. She always needed to _fix_ things. She always had to be an idiot.

Needed. Had. Past tense. Adora’s trapped in a place where nothing can be _fixed_.

“Catra?” Glimmer tries again. Catra can tell she’s crying now. “I don’t even know if you’re still in there, do I? You could’ve jumped off the balcony and ran away.”

 _Wouldn’t be that out of character_. Isn’t that what she does, after all? Runs away and lets other people deal with her mistakes?

“But I believe you’re still here,” Glimmer continues. “And when you’re ready, we’ll be here too. Okay?”

 _You’ll leave eventually_.

Catra sighs, closing her eyes and listening to the princess’ fading footsteps. Maybe she can get some sleep before the nightmares start again.

* * *

Scorpia looks between the files in her pincers, crestfallen. Everything feels like it’s falling apart. “We lost Thaymor! And someone, I forget who needs ammunition, _and_ I can’t find the file. How did Adora do all of this?!”

“I’m pretty sure she gave up on paperwork,” Entrapta says without looking away from her computer screen. Scorpia sighs deeply. She wasn’t _exactly_ promoted, but Adora’s gone, and Hordak is locked in his lab, and somehow, running the Horde has fallen on _her_ shoulders.

She is _not_ doing well.

“Have you talked to Hordak?” she asks Entrapta desperately. The other woman is the only one who ever seems to have any luck talking to him.

Entrapta shakes her head. “He won’t even open the door. I had to go in through the ducts. He wasn’t happy.”

“Did he happen to mention when he’d start running the Horde again?”

“I don’t think so, but let’s check.” She produces her recorder, rewinding and hitting play. Scorpia winces as Hordak yells. He’s scary in a recording too. “No mention of running of the Horde,” Entrapta concludes, stopping the playback.

“Great.”

“Scorpia.” Lonnie pokes her head into the room. Scorpia resists the urge to groan. No one talks to her for no reason anymore. “You got a minute? Things are getting a little messy in one of the training rooms.”

“Uh… Can you ask someone else?” Scorpia asks weakly.

“Octavia said you’d take care of it.”

“Right.” Scorpia sighs, then puts on a smile. “Okay, it’s fine. What’s going on?”

“One of the training bots has gone rogue.”

“Oh!” Entrapta bounces out of her seat and hurries to the door, passed a bewildered Lonnie. “You found Lisa!”

“Lisa…?” Lonnie looks at Scorpia, who shrugs.

“Entrapta will take care of it.”

“Ooooooooookay.” Lonnie leaned on the doorframe, watching Scorpia. “You uh… need help with anything?”

“You know how to run army?”

Lonnie laughs wryly. “Nah, I’m just a grunt. How’d you end up with Adora’s job, anyway?”

“No clue,” Scorpia says honestly. “I just woke up one day and everyone was asking _me_ what to do. Can you believe that? How am I supposed to know? It’s not like Adora ever gave me instructions on what to do if she…”

She doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. Lonnie is suddenly very interested in the floor, hands stuffed in her pockets. “I know she was your squad mate,” Scorpia continues after a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.” Lonnie kicks at the floor, frowning deeply. “I learned not to get too attached after Catra took off. And I didn’t even like _her_ that much to begin with.”

“You seem pretty close to Rogelio and Kyle.”

Another shrug. “They’re my squad mates. And this is war. People are gonna die.” She pushes herself up, rolling her shoulders. “Lemme know if there’s anything I can help with. I’m good for yelling at people.”

“I’ll probably take you up on that.” Scorpia chuckles. “Thanks.”

“Any time.”

Scorpia looks back at the files as Lonnie walks away.

 _This is war. People are gonna die_.

How old even _is_ Lonnie? She has to be around Adora’s age if they were in the same squad. That’s too young to be that cynical. To be broken. Adora was always stressed, Catra had looked exhausted the entire time they had been together after coming back from the Crimson Waste. She and Adorr had leaned on each other like they were the only things left in the world, even after everything that had happened.

Maybe _because_ of everything that happened.

“Okay, that’s taken care of!” Entrapta announces as she walks back in. “I’ll look at fixing the walls later, don’t worry—”

“Entrapta?”

The princess stops, looking around. “Yeah?”

“Is there… any way to open the portal again? Any at all?”

A strand of hair rubs the back of Entrapta’s head. She looks uncomfortable. “In theory, maybe? But it would end the same way — someone has to stay behind to close the portal. And I’d have to get the Sword of Protection again, and I don’t think Catra’s going to give that to us.”

“Oh.” Scorpia looks back at the paperwork, sighing. “Right.”

The Rebellion has been dismantling the Horde’s forces, but all the reports have one peculiarity — She-Ra hadn’t been seen in any fights since the portal. And she stands out, so it’s not like everyone just happens to be missing her. So where she is?

Another, smaller part of Scorpia wonders, _Is she okay?_

* * *

“ _Why did I ever listen to you?”_

_Catra takes a few steps back, eyes wide. Adora is glaring at her, standing in front of the portal. She looks so angry._

“ _I… I…”_

“ _Shadow Weaver was right. All you’ve ever done is drag me down.” The words are like a knife through her heart._

“ _You’re the one who took the sword,” Catra snaps back, trying to ignore the waver in her voice. She won’t cry. Not like this. Not in front of Adora._

“ _To fix_ your _stupid mistake! Again!”_

_Suddenly Adora is in front of her, shadows swirling around her body, fist raised. Catra yells, taking a step back—_

Her eyes snap open. She gasps, shooting up in bed, head snapping around.

Bright Moon. She’s in Bright Moon. Not in the portal, not arguing with Adora about whose _fault_ all of this was, or who should have been responsible for fixing it. Catra is safe.

 _Unlike Adora_.

Catra stumbles out of bed, shaking as she makes her way to the bathroom. The plan is to take a quick shower, to wash off the cold sweat currently clinging to her body. She steps into the bathroom, turns on the light without thinking…

And freezes when she sees herself in the mirror.

She’s not in the portal. Logically, she knows that. She knows that can’t really be _her_ in the mirror, with her arm and half her face turned black by the portal’s corruption.

And yet, there the twisted abomination is, staring back at her with its weird, corrupted eye.

Catra screams, reeling back, then clenches her fingers into a fist and drives it into the mirror, shattering the glass. She’s breathing heavily as she refocuses, noting the glass embedded in her knuckles. Her reflection is back to normal, though fractured by broken glass. Fitting.

She should take care of her hand. She should get dressed, leave the room, and face the damn world like the hero she’s _supposed_ to be. She should get over it.

Instead, she sinks to the ground, curls up in a ball, and cries.

Glimmer doesn’t really plan on teleporting into the room — she just wants to listen for signs of life. She’ll leave Catra alone, because that’s what Catra wants, and—

She hears the scream.

“Catra!”

She teleports in without a second thought, finding Catra curled up on the bathroom floor, holding a bleeding fist and crying. “Are you—”

“Do you _ever_ knock?” Catra snaps, cutting Glimmer off. She’s trying to glare at the princess, although it’s weak at best. Still, Glimmer takes a step back, surprised.

“I’ve been _knocking_ for a month now, but you screamed and—”

“And you decided to just let yourself in? What part of _I just want to be alone_ did you not get?”

Logically, Glimmer knows that Catra is lashing out. That she’s hurting, she’s upset, and she has so much bottled up. _Logically_ , Glimmer knows all of that.

Emotions aren’t always logical, though. “I’m _trying_ to help you,” Glimmer grits out, clenching her fists. “What’s your problem?”

Catra laughs, a loud, hysterical, humorless sound. It’s a little disconcerting. “My problem? I don’t know, you got six months to sit and listen to it?”

“You know I would,” Glimmer says quietly. “But you won’t _talk_ to us. Please, Catra, we need you—”

“No, you need _She-Ra_ ,” Catra shoots back. “I’m just the only person unlucky enough to turn into her.”

“That’s not true!” Glimmer protests. “You’ve helped us as yourself plenty of times, and you’re our friend. No one thinks you’re _just_ She-Ra.”

Catra scoffs. “Sure. I wouldn’t even be here if I’d never found that stupid sword, and you know it.” Glimmer can’t really respond to that. It’s true that she probably never would have ended up in Bright Moon, in the Rebellion, if she hadn’t found the sword. “And _you’re_ the one who brought me here.”

Glimmer stiffens. “Are you saying this is all _my_ fault?” she asks in disbelief. “You’re the one who gave the sword to Hordak! _We_ tried to stop you!”

_The Fright Zone is the only place you belong. It’s the only place that will keep the rest of the world safe from you._

_You’re not a hero. You’re a harbinger of chaos. Nothing good will ever follow you._

“I’m saying none of this would’ve happened if I’d stayed in the Fright Zone.” Catra turns away, squeezing her eyes shut. “Just… leave me alone.”

A long moment of silence follows before Glimmer teleports away. Catra looks at her injured hand and sinks back to the floor to begin the painful process of pulling out each piece of glass. Alone. Like she’s meant to be.

* * *

It’s dark when Catra jumps down to the grassy ground, heading for the woods. She’s not running away. Not _really_. She plans on coming back, but she has questions, and there’s only one person she can get answers from.

The woods cooperate today. She finds the Crystal Palace in no time, ripping her mask off as she storms in.

“Light Hope!”

The AI appears, expression passive and unruffled despite the annoyance on Catra’s face. “Hello, Catra.”

“Yeah, hi, whatever,” Catra grits out. “I want answers. _Real_ answers, not just ‘that’s insignificant’.”

Light Hope stares at her for a long moment. “You are allowing your emotions to control you—”

“I’m a little emotional right now!” Catra throws her arms up in disgust before beginning to pace. “Sorry, that’s what happens when your stupid dumbass best friend sacrifices herself to fix your mistakes!” Her shoulders slump slightly even as her expression hardens. “The mistakes _you_ told me Mara and the magicats made.”

“Mara made a choice fueled by dangerous emotions—”

“She wasn’t a robot!” Catra cuts in. “Or a hologram, or an AI, or whatever! She was a person, and people have feelings!”

“That can not be allowed when one has as much power as Mara wielded. As you currently wield.” Catra furrows her eyebrows as she stops, staring at Light Hope. “You can not afford to lose control.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Just turn off all my feelings? Pretend like nothing ever bothers me?” Light Hope doesn’t answer. Catra bites her tongue for a moment. “Mara opened the portal and brought Etheria to this place. Fine. _Why_? She thought she was doing some right, no matter how faulty her logic was. What did she think she was saving the universe from?”

Light Hope is quiet for long enough that Catra was starting to think she wouldn’t answer. “Mara believed the power of She-Ra was too strong for the universe. That one person alone could not control it, with or without the mask.”

Catra narrows her eyes slightly. “So she stranded us in an empty universe to protect the rest of the larger universe from what the First Ones and the magicats created?”

“Precisely. As I said, faulty logic.”

Catra isn’t entirely sure she disagrees with Mara, but she sets that aside for later. “What do you know about her? And I know you know _something_. She mentioned you specifically.”

Light Hope’s expression remains impassive even as her face and body distort slightly, glitching. Catra takes a step back, yelping. “Mara was the She-Ra before you. Mara was—” Another glitch. “Mara—” Glitch. “Mara—”

Catra watches in horror. There is something _way_ more fucked up around here that she doesn’t have time for. Not right then. “Never mind,” she says quickly. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

If it were possible for AI’s to relax, Light Hope probably would have done so. Her form returns to normal, body no longer glitching. Catra takes another step back, mind rewinding to something else Light Hope had said. “You’re saying if I’m too emotional, I’m going to end up like that as well?”

“It is a possibility, yes. Living beings are fallible, after all. All you can do is learn to control yourself.”

“ _You gave Hordak the sword!_ ”

She had. She couldn’t run away from that. And worst yet, she had _wanted_ to — wanted to give the hellish responsibility to someone else.

 _And look how that ended up_.

She’s already made her mistakes. She can’t afford any more. As much as she’s not sure she trusts Light Hope, the AI is right about one thing — emotions are always her downfall. From acting up to lashing out to blaming everyone else for the things she did.

“So… what, do you think you can teach me to _control_ myself?”

“It is a possibility,” Light Hope says slowly. “If you are willing to commit to it. I have told you from the beginning that you must be single-minded, focused. You’ve consistently allowed yourself to be distracted by outside forces.”

Catra grits her teeth, clenching her fists. _You gave Hordak the sword_. She had been _distracted_ by her own feelings, by Adora, by Shadow Weaver, by… everything. Would it be better for her to stay here? Away from the world? From everyone?

She shakes off the thought. _No_. Even she knows that kind of isolation is stupidly bad.

“Right,” she says quietly, stepping away. “Thanks for the answers. Great pep talk. Let’s do this again some time.”

She’s allowed to leave with no interruptions.

* * *

The plan is to go back to the castle — it really is. Catra has no desire to run away or spend any more time in these woods than is absolutely necessary. Besides, it’s late, and while she knows she can take care of herself, she doesn’t particularly feel like fighting.

And yet, when she stumbles into a clearing and sees the tattered cloth covering the cave entrance, she’s not surprised.

“Razz?” she calls wearily. The curtain is swiped aside as the old lady strolls out, sweeping the ground like there’s some chance of cleaning it. She lights up when she sees Catra.

“Ah, Mara!”

Of fucking course. “I’m not Mara,” she grits out. “I’m Catra. I’m the one who wrecked the world in a completely different way, remember?”

“Psh!” Catra swears Razz just scoffed at her. Did this old lady _scoff_ at her? Has Razz been spending too much time with her? “You didn’t wreck the world, and neither did Mara.”

“Really?” Catra scoffs right back. “It looked pretty broken to me.”

“You were led astray by outside forces,” Razz says wisely. “The same forces tried to lead Mara.”

Catra stares at Razz for a long moment before collapsing to the ground, leaning against a tree trunk. “Did she make a mistake by bringing Etheria here?”

“It depends on who you ask. The victors tell the story.”

“I know, I _know._ ” Catra groans, hiding her face in her hands. “History is written by the assholes who didn’t go into hiding for possibly noble or possibly selfish reasons.”

How is it she’s done so much, and she _still_ doesn’t have any answers? Knowing more about the magicats has somehow just confused her more. _She_ had opened a portal, and it had just made things worse. How had Mara opened a portal and not fucked everything up?

“ _If you open a portal, death and destruction will follow.”_

Maybe Mara had known what would happen. Maybe she hadn’t been as irrational and stupid and _led astray by emotions_ as Catra clearly had been. Maybe Light Hope has a point about her just staying in the Crystal Palace. If nothing else, the rest of the world will be safe from her.

A broom comes down on Catra’s head, snapping her out of her reverie. “Hey!” she grumbled, knocking the broom away. “Can you not be a weird old lady for a minute? I’m trying to think.”

Razz waves the broom at Catra. “You’re thinking too much. You always have.”

“I always — seriously, lady, I’m not Mara—”

“No, you’re Catra!” Razz huffs, hitting her with the broom again. That’s starting to get old. “And you always overthink! What are you doing out here alone, anyway? You never do well alone.”

“How… How do you know that?” Catra stutters in disbelief. “You know what, never mind. It doesn’t matter.” She’s weirdly gotten used to Razz acting like they had known each other for years. Maybe they had, in her mind. Catra is starting to wonder if time actually applies to Razz.

She curls her legs up to her chest, letting out a long sigh. “Nothing is going to fix this,” she says after a moment. “Nothing can undo the damage I did.”

“Then maybe you should be less worried about fixing things and more focused on the future.” It’s the clearest, possibly wisest thing Catra has ever heard Razz say. “Now get your basket, dearie. We’re going berry picking.”

Catra looks up at her, blinking a few times, then stands. “Rain check on the berries. I think I need to get back before anyone realizes I’m gone.”

She can only imagine what kind of reaction they’d all have to her disappearing. “Travel safe, dearie,” Razz sings after her as she starts off into the woods again. She’s tired when she finally climbs back into her room, dropping onto the bed and staring at the ceiling.

 _Be less worried about fixing things and more focused on the future_.

 _Fixing things_.

“Fuck, when did I turn into Adora?” she groans, covering her eyes with one hand. Okay, new plan. Get some sleep. Clean up in the morning. Get out of her damn room.

The world still needs She-Ra, after all. It doesn’t have time to wait for Catra to get her shit together.

* * *

“Elberon’s been recovering well, they benefit from some assistance, though—”

Spinnerella stops as the war room door opens, and everyone turns to see Catra slinking inside. She doesn’t look at any of them as she takes her seat next to Bow, arms resting on the table. Angella looks at her for a moment, then back at Spinnerella.

“I’m sure we can arrange for some aid to be sent to Elberon, if you can get an idea of what they need.”

“Oh…” Spinnerella shook her head, refocusing on Angella, recognizing the not-so-subtle attempt to draw the focus back to the meeting and off Catra. “Right, yeah, of course. We can swing back through.”

“An excuse to go to Elberon?” Netossa chuckles. “Hell yeah. The food there is great.”

Bow and Glimmer carefully examine Catra the best they can without looking. She’s traded her old outfit for a pair of black leggings and dark red shorts, with a matching shirt. The top third is black, and there’s a whole sleeve covering her right arm, along with a glove on her left hand. Possibly the most alarming part of it all is her hair, which has been completely smoothed back, not a strand out of place, gray tuffs cut away. She looks so different. So much older. So much _sadder_. It hurts.

Frosta is talking about scouting missions in the North. They quickly refocus to make sure they’re not about to be sent back there.

The meeting continues for another hour. Catra doesn’t speak, and no one tries to make her. She continues staring at the table when they adjourn, lost in thought.

“Glimmer?”

It’s odd how hearing her own name sounds weird. Glimmer stops to look at Catra as everyone else leaves, then exchanges a look with Bow and nods. He steps out, giving them the room. Catra stands, fidgeting as she leans against the table, before finally looking up.

“I’m sorry about what I said. None of this is your fault.”

The apology is sincere, but it takes Glimmer a moment to get over how… quiet Catra seems. Muted. Like someone drained the life out of her. “It’s okay,” she assures her with a small smile. “I know you’re dealing with a lot. Just… please don’t push us away. Okay? We’re here for you, whatever you need.”

Catra nods slowly, the ghost of a smile on her lips. She had felt bad for snapping at Glimmer, she really had. She knows she can’t take her temper out on other people. She’s responsible for her own actions. Trying to shirk that is what got her here in the first place. “I know. Thanks.”

Glimmer closes the space between them, hugging Catra tight. She groans. “You people and your hugs…”

She still returns it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember - Reviews are like bells. Every time a reader gets one, they get more motivation to write


	9. Processing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re doing what now?”
> 
> “Going to Mystacor!”
> 
> Catra, as predicted, is less than thrilled about this development. “Okay, I’ll bite. _Why_ are we going to Mystacor?”
> 
> “Well, _I’m_ going because Aunt Casta is the best teacher for learning more about magic. _You’re_ going because we do everything together.”
> 
> “You can have a real Mystacor experience!” Bow squeals, delighted. “Ooooh, the hot springs! You’ll love the hot springs, they’re great, it’s like, like being wrapped up in a super warm blanket—”
> 
> “Except it’s _wet_. What part of me screams ‘I love water’ to you?”
> 
> “It’ll be fun,” Glimmer insists. “Pleeeeeeeeease?”
> 
> She’s been learning the puppy eyes from Bow. It’s not fair. Catra sighs. “ _Fine_. Just for like, a day though. I mean, you can stay as long as you want, but I’m coming back to Bright Moon.”
> 
> It’s the best they can ask for, Glimmer supposes. They’ll work on getting Catra to relax more when they get there.

“Catra, can we slow down?” Bow huffs, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees.

“What?” Catra scoffs. “Are you tired already?”

“We’ve been doing this for like three hours.”

Catra’s been absolutely relentless about training since coming out of her mourning hibernation. Juliet had to tell her to lay off the guards after she ran an entire group into the ground. Now it’s Bow’s turn.

“Come on, you haven’t taken a break all day. Did you even breakfast?”

“I don’t need you to fuss,” Catra grumbles, stepping away from Bow before he can rest a hand her shoulder. “If you’re not going to help, just leave me alone.”

“But—”

Glimmer watches from a balcony as Catra walks away from Bow. She’s been different since the portal. They know _why_. They just don’t know how to help. And it hurts to see her suffering.

“Glimmer?” Angella approaches from behind, gently calling her daughter’s name. Glimmer turns to look at her, smiling slightly. “What’re you doing?”

“Watching Catra and Bow.” She turns back to see Catra tackling bots on her now. “Or… just Catra, I guess.”

Angella joins her at the railing, humming noncommittally when she sees Catra working by herself. Glimmer ventures to break the silence after a moment.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I want to learn more about magic. _My_ magic. I know I can be stronger than I am with just the Moonstone, and we _need_ stronger fighters.” Her voice borders on pleading. “ _I_ need to be stronger. I’m the weakest person in the alliance right now.”

“That’s not true,” Angella admonishes her with a frown.

“Yes it is! Perfuma holds back, but she could literally destroy the planet from the inside out. Frosta could start an ice age. Mermista could flood the planet—”

“What you’re saying is that we should be afraid of them,” Angella says dryly.

“No. Well, yes. But it’s not just them. Bow is smart and knows how to fight without magic, and Catra is basically a goddess. And I…” Glimmer sighs, looking at her hands. “I can barely teleport to another kingdom. If… If Shadow Weaver hadn’t helped us, if I could’ve gotten us to the Fright Zone without her, maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe they wouldn’t have opened the portal.”

_Maybe Adora would still be alive, and Catra would be okay._

Angella looks Glimmer over uncertainly. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for you to know a bit more about your magical side. I’m sure Castaspella would be thrilled to help.”

Glimmer lights up. “Really?”

“I can send a summons for her, if you’d like.”

Glimmer looks back at the training grounds, considering it for a moment. “I think I’d rather go there.”

A small, amused smile pulls at Angella’s lips. “I suppose Catra and Bow will be accompanying you as well.” She knows exactly what Glimmer is thinking.

“If you don’t mind sparing them for a couple days.”

“Of course not. I’m sure they’ll be happy for the break.”

* * *

“We’re doing what now?”

“Going to Mystacor!”

Catra, as predicted, is less than thrilled about this development. “Okay, I’ll bite. _Why_ are we going to Mystacor?”

“Well, _I’m_ going because Aunt Casta is the best teacher for learning more about magic. _You’re_ going because we do everything together.”

“You can have a real Mystacor experience!” Bow squeals, delighted. “Ooooh, the hot springs! You’ll love the hot springs, they’re great, it’s like, like being wrapped up in a super warm blanket—”

“Except it’s _wet_. What part of me screams ‘I love water’ to you?”

“It’ll be fun,” Glimmer insists. “Pleeeeeeeeease?”

She’s been learning the puppy eyes from Bow. It’s not fair. Catra sighs. “ _Fine_. Just for like, a day though. I mean, you can stay as long as you want, but I’m coming back to Bright Moon.”

It’s the best they can ask for, Glimmer supposes. They’ll work on getting Catra to relax more when they get there.

* * *

Entrapta peeks into Hordak’s lab, her hair flitting about. He hasn’t really said much since the portal. Just… been angry. A lot.

“Hordak?”

He’s standing at a table, looking over the broken bits of what had been the portal. Entrapta droops slightly when she sees that. _If I’d had more time to test_ …

She still doesn’t understand why Catra and Adora pulled the lever. Maybe she never will. She’s learned that not _everything_ is as logical as she’d like it to be.

“Scorpia — Force Captain Scorpia, that is — is kiiiiiiiiiiind of wondering if you’ll — I mean, with Adora gone there isn’t really anyone else in charge—”

Hordak slams his hands on the table. Entrapta blinks, tips of her hair tapping together. “Not. Now.” He speaks through gritted teeth. A small frown pulls at Entrapta’s lips. She hits the button on her recorder and starts speaking.

“Log eighty-six post-portal. Hordak continues to be unresponsive and leaving his duties as leader to someone less than adequate, which may be offensive to anyone else, but I believe Scorpia would agree with me—”

“Entrapta!”

Right, people don’t like it when she talks about them in front of them. “I’m _right_ , though,” she points out, jabbing a strand of hair in his direction to emphasize the words. He doesn’t answer. “Did your signal to get through?”

“Yes,” he admits after a moment.

“Then it still worked, even if there were a few… anomalies,” Entrapta says brightly, trying not to remember that one of the anomalies had resulted in her… friend’s?… death. “All you have to do is wait.”

Hordak looks up, contemplative. “Wait,” he repeats slowly. “Entrapta, will you tell Force Captain Scorpia I’d like to meet with her when you see her again?”

“Sure!” Entrapta pauses before tilting her head slightly. She knows she just caused _something_ , but she can’t quite put her finger on what. It bothers her more than it usually would. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Continue with the original plan, and take this planet in Horde Prime’s name.”

Oh. That’s what she’s caused. Oops.

* * *

Catra stays back as Castaspella wraps Glimmer and Bow in an excited, exuberant hug. Nope, she’s having nothing to do with that, she definitely does not need—

“What are you doing hiding back there? C’mere!”

And then Casta is grabbing her as well, hugging her tight. Catra groans. Glimmer and Bow look thrilled. Isn’t this supposed to be _relaxing_?

“Bow wants to show Catra how a _real_ Mystacor experience is supposed to go,” Glimmer explains to her aunt. “Instead of her own experience of being brought here unconscious and sleeping for two days.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun! Are you going to try the hot springs?”

Catra raises an eyebrow. “Cat. In water. How does that sound at all fun?”

“It’s a completely different experience when it’s warm water,” Casta assures her. “Give it a try.”

Bow grins, wrapping an arm around Catra’s shoulders. “It’ll be great,” he says. Catra glares at him, very much doubting it.

“ _Fine_. Let’s go.”

They don’t _start_ with the hot springs, thankfully. Bow gets a couple blankets and leads Catra out to the beach. Gentle waves break against the sandy shore, creating what’s _probably_ a relaxing atmosphere for most people. But Catra is tense, ears twitching, jaw clenched. She doesn’t want to _be_ here. There’s still a war going on, pathetic as it may be _now_ , considering Hordak has apparently given up in the absence of anyone to actually lead. And they expect her to lie on a beach and stare at the sky? Or _sleep_?

“First of all…” Bow gently plucks the mask from Catra’s head.

“Hey—!”

“And where’s the sword?”

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.”

Bow raises an eyebrow, looking her up and down. He’s not kidding. Fine. She retrieves the charm from a hidden pocket and turns it over. Bow smiles, satisfied. “Good. Now take a blanket and get comfortable.”

“Bow, seriously—”

“Seriously. You’ve been working yourself into the ground, and it’s not going to do any good if you just end up collapsing from exhaustion or something.” He gently shoves a blanket into her arms. “At least try.”

She sighs. “Fine. _Fine_.”

They spread their blankets out next to each other, settling down. Bow falls asleep almost immediately. Must be nice, Catra thinks, rolling onto her side to face away from him. The rolling waves are a nice sound to concentrate on. Maybe it’s like meditating. Perfuma had done her best with a less than stellar student, and Catra could more or less turn her mind off when she wanted to. Sometimes.

She takes a deep breath and tries that now, closing her eyes, focusing on the waves and trying to choose one thing to think about out of her racing mind.

 _The portal_. Of course it’s the portal. What else is there to consume her every waking moment and drown her guilt until she couldn’t breathe?

She and Adora had been… engaged? That’s so weird to think about. It’s not like — nope, not going down that track. Catra had been a _princess_. She shudders at the thought. She definitely does _not_ want to be a princess. She just wants things to be… easier. Maybe the portal had latched on to that desire and created a world where she could live the easiest life — a princess during a time of peace with a fiancee, two loving mothers, and a kingdom which absolutely adored her.

 _C’yra_.

The name bounces around in her head. She’s seen and heard it so many times now, between the portal world, reading it on those bits of letters at the library, Razz mentioning she had met the Magicat queen…

_Maybe Angella would know. Maybe it’s like… a name that gets passed down. Like a title. Is that a thing? How do I know absolutely nothing about royalty after living in a castle for like two years?_

She’s starting to get off track. Deep breath. Focus again. The portal. Adora. Adora’s arms around her as they kneel together in the light, waiting to be consumed just like the rest of the world. Her hand clinging to Catra’s blackened, corrupted fingers.

“ _You and me, together at the end of the world. Right?_ ”

That’s what they had always promised each other. They would rise through the ranks of the Horde together, to a position where Shadow Weaver would no longer have any power over them, and they would be strong enough to unseat Hordak. Then _they_ would be in charge, together. They’d fight together. They’d overcome _anything_ together.

 _Except stupidity. Can’t fix that together when one of you is drowning in a fucking savior complex_.

Adora and her stupid savior complex. It’s all Shadow Weaver’s fault. Right from the start, she had made it clear that Adora’s choices _would_ effect Catra’s life. Or possibly end it. Adora had to be perfect, or it would all come down on Catra’s head.

 _No fucking wonder she thought she had to save me from the Rebellion_ , Catra thinks bitterly. _All she’s done her entire life is save me from Shadow Weaver’s fucked up power games_.

The worst part is, Catra isn’t sure if Adora succeeded or failed in that. Had Catra ever really been _saved_ from that bullshit? Or had she just run away from it, hidden behind the protection of Bright Moon and She-Ra, pretending Shadow Weaver didn’t matter anymore and she couldn’t hurt Catra again?

Catra sits up abruptly, growling slightly. Bow is still heavily asleep. Screw this. She stands, making her way back to the castle, walking silently through the empty halls. She doesn’t really think about where she’s going, but at the same time, she’s not surprised when she ends up in front of Light Spinner’s statue. She glares up at the passive face, fingers curling into a fist.

“You never get punished for the things you do, huh? Not really, anyway. You fucked up here, so you ran away to the Fright Zone and got Hordak to give you power so you could torture two kids for their entire lives. And when that fell through, you just slinked into Bright Moon like you owned the place and talked me into healing you before you told me you murdered every single magicat on Etheria. And now you get to say you helped _save the world_ because Glimmer needed you to help her teleport to the Fright Zone. It must be real fucking nice to never face the consequences of your bullshit, huh?”

She doesn’t _answer_ , of course. It’s not like Catra is expecting that. But somehow, it still makes her angry. “And even if someone _did_ confront you, you don’t even care. You’re completely heartless. You’ve never cared about anything but yourself, and you still don’t. Adora’s _dead_ , and you get to fucking live, and it’s not _fair_!”

She kicks the statue. And regrets it when at least three of her toes definitely break. She doesn’t scream, at least, but she _does_ stagger back and collapse again the wall, cradling her foot and trying keep down the pained tears filling her eyes. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

“Um…”

Catra’s head snaps up to see a young woman with pale skin and chestnut hair standing at the end of the hall, watching her with some concern. She was healer. Catra vaguely recognized her from her last checkup after Shadow Weaver had tortured her.

“Are you okay?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Yeah,” Catra grunts, leaning against the wall, still holding her foot. “Sorry, it’s… Meg, right?” She nods, smiling. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about… whatever you saw.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Meg assures her. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

_Turn back time? Stop me from pulling the lever? Stop Shadow Weaver from slaughtering an entire kingdom? Stop me from ever finding the sword in the first place?_

“No.” Catra’s voice is quiet, eyes locked on the statue. “There’s nothing anyone can really do.”

Silence falls for a moment, but she doesn’t hear Meg walk away, and she can feel the gaze still locked on her. “I’m sorry if it’s a bother,” Meg finally says, “but can you come with me for a moment?”

Catra doesn’t have the strength to argue. Instead she nods and stands, stretching for a moment before walking toward Meg, trying not to limp too much. She misses the weight of the mask on her head. She should have taken it when she left Bow.

The Healer smiles when she sees that Catra is cooperating, and turns to start down the hall, assured that Catra will follow her.

* * *

“Scorpia?”

Scorpia looks up from the paperwork, sighing when she sees Entrapta looking at her, almost contrite, the tips of her hair poking together. “I… may have made a mistake,” she says slowly. Scorpia frowns. That’s not something Entrapta admits lightly.

“What happened?”

“Well, I went to talk to Hordak again, and he… wants to push forward with the war and take over Etheria before Horde Prime gets here.” Entrapta rushes out the words. It takes Scorpia a moment to catch up.

“He… wants to fight the Rebellion again?” Entrapta nods. “Oh. Okay. Well that’s… that’s uh… does he have any idea how to _do_ that?”

As far as anyone can tell, Shadow Weaver, and then Adora, were the ones who really ran the Horde, while Hordak hid away in his lab and presumably working on his portal. Does he actually know how to lead?

“I’m sure he’ll think of something.” Entrapta doesn’t sound overly enthused about the idea, however. Scorpia notices this.

“Entrapta? Do you… want to keep fighting this war?”

Entrapta’s shoulders slump; she sighs. “I never wanted to fight,” she admits. “I just followed the science. But after what happened with the portal…”

Scorpia nods as Entrapta’s voice trails off. She’s not a soldier. She’s gone along with this for so long, knowing there was no way out, not really. She was born into this. But she’s not sure she can do this for much longer.

“Hordak wants to see you, when you have a minute,” Entrapta says after a moment of silence. Scorpia nods slowly, rubbing the back her neck.

“Right. I’ll talk to him in a bit. Thanks, Entrapta.”

* * *

Catra looks around warily as Meg leads her into a small room. The smell of incense is instantly overwhelming, making her nose twitch. Why did she think following this woman was a good idea?

 _Better than sitting around waiting for Bow to find you and nag you about being bad at relaxing_.

Right.

She looks around the room, tilting her head. The walls are made of some kind of jagged crystal, with bits sticking out of the wall The lighting is dim, a mirror on one wall barely visible. It’s warm, but comfortable, like sitting in the sun.

“What… is this?” she asks slowly, turning to look at Meg.

“It’s a meditation chamber. We have several for different types of ailments.”

Catra raises an eyebrow. “Ailments? Like what?”

“Illnesses, mental and physical damages…” Meg pauses, hand brushing against the jagged wall. “The crystals are meant to encourage healing. It’s not a cure-all, mind you. Meditation is just one part of treatment.” She looks back at Catra. “Castaspella told you about magical abuse leaving scars, right?”

“Yeah,” Catra says slowly. “She said it was treatable, but…”

“But you didn’t want to. That’s understandable. Trusting magic after it’s hurt you so much isn’t easy.”

“That’s what this place is for, isn’t it?” Catra’s tail is stiff. “Healing magical damage.”

“Yes and no,” Meg says calmly. “This particular one is for mental ailments, but there can be a lot of crossover between mental and magical damage.” She sits, gesturing for Catra to join her. Catra hesitates before slowly sitting so she’s facing Meg. “Have you ever meditated before?”

“Um… kind of. Not anything magical, though.”

“Would you be willing to indulge me, then?”

Catra shrugs, and nods. Why not? At least she can say she was trying to do something relaxing. Meg smiles gently. “Close your eyes and think.”

“About what?”

“Whatever you want.”

Well, that’s helpful. Catra sighs and does as she’s told. Her mind, of course, goes to Adora. Brave, sweet, _stupid_ Adora. Adora the favorite, Adora abused in ways Catra can’t imagine, because Shadow Weaver’s abuse of _her_ had always been straight forward and obvious. Adora holding her. Promising.

“ _Nothing really bad can happen as long as we stick together_.”

But they hadn’t. Catra had left, driven away by the fear of what Shadow Weaver would do to her if she found out about any of this She-Ra stuff. Fear which had turned into a begrudging acceptance that she was meant to play the hero, no matter how impossible it seemed. And begrudging acceptance had turned into true caring for Glimmer and Bow, for Angella, hell, for _all_ the princesses.

And then Shadow Weaver had come along to ruin _that_ as well.

“Catra?”

The gentle call of her name brings her back to reality. She opens her eyes, frowning when she realizes it’s brighter in the room — then yelping in surprise when she sees her own reflection in the mirror. There’s a golden light around her, surrounding her figure like a bubble. But it keeps glitching, spaces turning red or temporarily disappearing.

“It’s okay,” Meg says quickly as Catra backs against the opposite wall, curling in on herself. “It’s your aura. Did Castaspella tell you about this?”

The words trigger something in the very back her memory.

“ _Everyone has an aura of some kind. Prolonged magical abuse causes permanent damage to that aura._ ”

“Yeah,” Catra says after a moment, letting out a long breath. “Yeah, she did. I’ve never really seen it though… why is it so bright?”

“It’s reflective of your inner self.” That doesn’t answer anything. By all rights, it should probably be black. A She-Ra thing, Catra supposes. “Do you see the glitches and marks?”

Catra nods. “Magical scars?” she guesses quietly.

“Yes. This type of disruption your aura often has an affect on your mental state as well. As I said, crossover between mental and magical damage.”

“Can… Can you fix it?” Catra asks after a moment. She reaches up as if to touch the aura, but her hand goes straight through one of the red areas. A shock runs through her fingers.

_Crimson energy flares to life around Shadow Weaver’s hand; the current of electricity bolts through Catra, and she yells, momentarily seizing, straining against the bindings…_

Catra immediately pulls her hand back, trembling. The pain is already a fading memory. “Some of it is still treatable,” Meg says softly. “But there are parts that are likely permanent. Not all scars can be erased.”

Of course. Catra lowers her forehead to rest on her knees, laughing humorlessly. “So that’s it then, huh? There’s really nothing left Shadow Weaver can take from me.”

Adora, the safety of Bright Moon, her own fucking sanity, nothing is safe from the sorceress. Nothing has _ever_ been safe. Catra grew up with that knowledge and internalized it. She’s sure it’s the only reason she survived for so long. Nothing is ever safe from Shadow Weaver.

“Even if it can’t be fixed, you can still take it back,” Meg assures her. “You have more control over this than you think. But it takes time.”

“I don’t have _time_. I’m supposed to be Etheria’s great hero or… whatever.” _Some hero_.

“You need to take care of yourself before you try and take care of anyone else.”

The words surprise Catra enough that she looks up, meeting Meg’s gaze. There’s a quiet determination in her eyes — the look of every single person who thinks they’re right and won’t back down. The glow fades away, leaving Catra in the shadows, staring at herself in the mirror.

“Trauma is hard to process, and without help it can be impossible. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

Catra stares at her reflection for a moment, then turns back to look at Meg. And she nods.

“Okay.”

* * *

Castaspella and Glimmer are settling in for dinner when Bow finds them, chewing his thumbnail. “Hey,” Glimmer says, yawning. Aunt Casta really ran her through hoops to learn simple things. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing!” His voice cracks. “I just, um… I… lost Catra.”

“You did _what_?!” Glimmer’s chair screeches against the floor as she jumps up. Castaspella looks at Bow, alarmed.

“What do you mean you _lost her_?”

“We were on the beach, and I fell asleep, and when I woke up she was gone.” Bow’s voice is frantic, several pitches higher than usual. “I swear I’ve looked all over but I can’t—”

“Can’t what, get through puberty?”

Bow freezes, then slowly turns to see Catra in the door, accompanied by one of the Mystacor healers. “Seriously, even Kyle’s voice never cracked that bad.” There’s a faint smirk on the magicat’s lips as she walks by Bow, clapping a hand on his shoulder, then goes to sit and help herself to some food. Castaspella looks at her curiously, then at the healer, who smiles in return.

They had talked a lot about Catra after her first visit to Mystacor — she had outright rejected the thought of magical help, and no one could really blame her for that. But there were other, slower ways to help her.

Meg must have found something that works, Castaspella thinks fondly. She’s young, but always a step ahead.

“Are… you okay?” Glimmer asks Catra. She snatches a bread roll and takes a bite, shrugging.

“Right as rain, Sparkles. How’d magic training go? You blow anything up?”

Glimmer huffs, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know why I worry about you.”

“Honestly, neither do I.”

Bow sits beside Glimmer, feeling just a bit lightheaded. He had spent _hours_ running around the palace, desperately trying to find Catra, terrified she had run off without anyone realizing. And she’s just been with a healer the entire time, apparently. Doing _what_? And she hasn’t even asked about her sword or mask.

They have no idea what’s happened, but they’ll take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, this is far from the end of Catra's mental breakdown. There's plenty to come.
> 
> Reviews are high in nutrition and a required part of a writer's diet.


	10. Interlude I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is a little different

“Adora!”

Her eyes snap open, fist swinging out, hitting air. “Watch it!” A familiar voice laughs. Adora turns to see Catra next to her, grinning. Catra? “You were sleep fighting again. I’m surprised you haven’t punched me yet.”

“How…”

Adora looks around, blinking rapidly. Her head is spinning, ears ringing slightly. “Where are we?”

Catra tilts her head, raising an eyebrow. “Home?” she said slowly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”

Home. Half Moon. Adora sits up, scanning the room. Catra’s room. _Their_ room. Catra is kneeling beside her, watching her uncertainly. “Are you _sure_ you’re okay?” she presses gently, voice low.

“Yes,” Adora says with a little bit more effort. “I just… had a weird dream. Threw me off a bit.”

Catra’s concern turns to a small smile. She leans in, softly kissing Adora; she pushes her back on the bed, settling on her chest as they gently reacquaint themselves with this reality. “Better?” she eventually asked, split gaze meeting Adora’s bright blue eyes.

“Hmmmm. I dunno. Maybe need a little bit more help with grounding…”

“Ugh.” Catra groans, grabbing a pillow and shoving it in Adora’s face. Adora laughs, pushing back and tackling Catra. “Hey, get off me you crazy woman!”

“Mmmm, nope.” Adora nuzzles her cheek against Catra’s, settling in and taking a deep breath, prepared to spend the entire day snuggling. “This is comfy. You’re so soft.”

“You’re the worst,” Catra grumbles, trying to push Adora off with almost no actual effort. She’s perfectly happy to let Adora snuggle her for as long as it takes for her to settle back in from her weird dream. If that happens to be all day, well then… who is she to argue?

There’s a knock at the door. “Girls?” Lyra calls, peeking into the room. Adora looks up, and Catra tilts her head back to look at her mother. Lyra chuckles when she sees them. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Will you leave if you are?” Catra asks flatly. Adora swats her shoulder, shushing her. Lyra knows better than to take her daughter seriously.

“It’s getting a bit late. The other princesses will be here soon.”

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuugh,” Catra groans again. “Is that today?”

“Yes, it is,” Lyra says, ignoring Catra’s attitude Adora snickers, rolling to lie back down so Catra can get ready. “Don’t get comfortable, Adora. You’re required to attend as well.”

“What?” Adora balks, sitting back up. “Why?”

“The downside of marrying a princess.”

It’s Catra’s turn to laugh at her wife’s distress. “Come on, _Princess_ ,” she teases, throwing a pillow at Adora. “Time to get up and join the princess meeting.”

“ _You’re_ a princess.”

“And so are you now.” Catra sticks her tongue out at Adora. “Move it.”

Lyra shakes her head, smiling, and leaves the girls to get ready. Adora sighs as she rolls out of bed. At least she doesn’t have to wear robes or anything overly formal — _yet_. Catra looks good in all that, but Adora is sure she’ll look like a completely moron, and she isn’t ready for that.

Catra watches her get dressed, pulling on her new jacket (dark red, matching Catra’s robes) and fixing the little pin on the lapel (a smaller version of Catra’s mask — the symbol of Half Moon). “What’s it gonna take to get you halfway presentable again?” Catra asks. “You looked pretty good at wedding.”

“Oh… shut up,” Adora grumbles, blushing and focusing on her pin. She hadn’t _felt_ like she’d looked good, but everyone had complimented her multiple times. Catra, Glimmer, and Bow didn’t count, but they were far from the only ones.

Catra gently pushes her back against the wall and steps right into her personal space, pressing another kiss to her lips. “We need to work on your self esteem,” she teases with a small smile, resting their foreheads together. “I dunno how you can look at yourself in the mirror and not see what I do.”

“You’re biased,” Adora replies, pouting.

“Maybe,” Catra allows. “But have I ever lied to you? Remember when you tried bangs?”

Adora bites her tongue to keep from laughing. Yes, the bangs had been _awful_ , and Catra had _not_ kept her opinion to herself. She had taken one look at them and stormed into the Bright Moon throne room to ask Angella why she would allow Adora to do something so horrible to herself.

“I just…” Adora cups Catra’s face, sighing. “Nothing ever feels _right_ on me.”

“To be fair, you’ve only worn like… three different shirts your entire life.” It’s true, even if Adora thinks Catra _could_ be nicer about it. “Maybe you should spend some time trying to explore fashion and figure out what you like instead of wearing what everyone else says looks good on you.”

“Maybe,” Adora mutters. “It just feels like a waste of time.”

“It’s not a waste of time to find something you feel _comfortable_ in, stupid.” Catra slaps her shoulder slightly. “Stop acting like your existence is some big inconvenience. We’re stuck together now, and I want you to be happy. And you _know_ my mothers would be happy to see you change your wardrobe around a little.”

They would, Adora thinks with a small smile. She knows C’yra and Lyra love her. But she also knows they die a little when they see her wearing the same three jackets every single day.

“Okay.”

Catra grins. “Great, we can—”

“Of _course_ you two are busy making out,” an exasperated voice says behind them. “Come on already.”

And then they’re in the dining hall. Catra is leaning on Adora’s shoulder, groaning. “Found them!” Glimmer announces, shoving them into a pair of nearby arms. They both yelp as Scorpia scoops them up.

“Hi guys!”

They’re quickly piled on by Perfuma, Spinnerella, and Netossa. Mermista is rolling her eyes, saying, “Yeah, yeah, this is all _wholesome_ or whatever,” while Frosta is asking when breakfast will be ready.

“Was that necessary?” Catra groans, twisting to look at Glimmer, who’s watching with her arms crossed, lips pulled into a satisfied smirk.

“Absolutely. And it was _fun_.”

Adora laughs as Scorpia finally sets them down; she takes Catra’s hand, squeezing and smiling gently. There’ll be plenty of time to talk later.

There will be plenty of time for everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things before you click that comment button:
> 
> 1) Yes this is the chapter  
> 2) No, there will not be another update this week to make up for the shortness of it  
> 3) This was intentionally short to give you a peek into what Adora is dealing with - or not dealing with, since she gets to continue their perfect life, but same difference.  
> 4) I am really, really, really not in the mood for complaints about how short this is. So please just... don't?


	11. Power and Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, what, are you just going to beat the emotions out of me?”
> 
> “Learning to control yourself is a strenuous process,” Light Hope says simply. “You must take time.”
> 
> Why does it feel like these conversations always go in circles? “You’re the one who told me I need to learn!” she says impatiently, grip on the sword tightening.
> 
> “I’ve also told you several times that you can not afford to waste time with others.” Stupid, overly logical AI. “If you were to simply stay—”
> 
> “I already told you, _no_ ,” Catra shoots back. “I need better company than this.”
> 
> “Then you must live with what I can teach you in the time you are here.”
> 
> She’s being _snarky_. Catra kicks at the air, looking around. “ _Fine_. Just give me more bots to fight.”
> 
> It’s not perfect, by any means. But it’s an outlet for the unending energy. The twitchiness. It’s an outlet for the _anger_. Sitting around and meditating isn’t doing any good. She’s not sure if this is, either. But she can _move_ , and that’s something. That’s better.

Would anyone else remember Adora?

The thought consumes Catra as she curls up into herself, staring at the large mural of King Micah. He had been a hero, he had been royalty, of course he would get this huge thing dedicated to him. Adora had been part of the Horde. A Force Captain. Someone who led raids on villages and tried to help (albeit accidentally) erase She-Ra from Catra’s mind. There are no memorials to honor fallen soldiers in the Fright Zone. No one outside of the Princess Alliance knows what Adora did. And they don’t owe her anything after what happened.

She’ll never have a memorial like this. But she’ll always have a home in part of Catra’s mind.

“Catra?”

Angella is there. Catra looks up, meeting her gaze. The queen looks… tired. Older, somehow. As if the last few months of have aged her several years. Catra can relate.

“Hi, Angella.” She tries to smile, but it’s weak. “Sorry, I can go if I’m in the way or anything…”

Angella laughs softly. “Sometimes I feel like you get more comfort out of coming here than I do,” she says as she joins Catra on the bench, looking up at her late husband. “Micah was always good at making people feel better, though.”

“It’s a nice place to come and think.” Catra follows Angella’s gaze. “The company seems pretty all right, too.”

“I do believe that’s a compliment, coming from you.” Catra smiles humorlessly. “What are we thinking about tonight, then?”

“I don’t know. Nothing much.” _Too much_. Her brain can’t decide what to settle on. It’s making her antsy.

“The portal,” Angella guesses. She’s eerily good at that kind of thing.

“I… guess, yeah. You… You remember it all too, right?” Bow and Glimmer didn’t seem to, not that Catra had seen them there. She’d already been swallowed by the portal at that point.

“I do. Micah was there.”

“Oh.” Catra’s ears fall slightly. “Shame I didn’t get to meet him.”

“It truly was a perfect world.” Angella sighs. Catra leans back so her head is resting on the wall behind them.

“You… You said you’d met the queen and princess of Half Moon. Do you remember anything about them?”

Angella frowns faintly, thinking. “It was a long time ago… the queen’s name was C’yra, that I remember for sure. She had a spouse I never met. I don’t remember much at all about the princess — as I said, she was _very_ young. Why do you ask?”

“In the portal world… I was the princess of Half Moon. And I was _engaged_ to Adora, who worked for the Bright Moon guard. It was weird. Really, really weird.” Catra closes her eyes. “I dunno if it was just… some kind of weird messed up illusion or if it was the world we _could_ have lived in if one or two things had gone different, or…”

“You’ll drive yourself half mad trying to figure it out,” Angella says softly. “Trust me. I’ve spent a long time wondering _what if_.”

“I can’t just _not know_ , though. It’ll drive me crazy either way.”

“You could spend the rest of your life chasing answers you’ll never get.”

She’s right, and Catra knows it. But it’s still frustrating. Even Shadow Weaver won’t know much, if Catra really wanted to drag herself down and face the sorceress — which she _really_ does not. But she wouldn’t know anything about Half Moon beyond what she had already told them. There was no one left alive who could tell Catra the truth.

“Do you ever feel like everything you do is just for nothing?” she asks quietly. “Like, not matter what, you’re never going to change anything?”

“Yes,” Angella admits. “I’ve felt that way quite often since Micah died.”

“How do you still get out of bed in the morning?” Catra usually wakes up wishing for everything to go away so she can sleep forever. She’s trying not to fall too far down that rabbit hole.

“I remember that I still have a lot to live for. I have a kingdom to protect, a war to win, people who depend on my ability to function. The Rebellion suffered for years because of my reluctance to actively engage in battle. _You_ have suffered for it multiple times. I don’t want that to happen again.”

Catra shoulders fall as she leans forward to rest her forehead on her knees. “I’m so tired,” she mumbles after a minute. Angella rests a hand on her back.

“I know. You’ve been through far too much that you didn’t deserve. But there are still people who care about you. Try to remember that, and hold on to them.”

Catra nods, still curled in on herself. People who care. People like Glimmer and Bow and Angella. And she’s grateful to them, she really, truly is. She doesn’t know where she’d be if she had stayed with the Horde.

But it doesn’t help how much she misses Adora.

* * *

“Thaymor is under attack!”

Everyone looks up from the table, surprised, as a guard runs into the war room. “Are you _serious_?” Glimmer asks, groaning.

“Is it the Horde?” Catra asks. The guard nods. “So much for them being out of commission.”

Glimmer rests a hand on Catra’s shoulder, then Bow’s, and in a shower of sparkles they appear in Thaymor. The place is already full of soldiers and tanks. “ _Great_ ,” Catra grumbles, producing the charm and transforming it back. “For the honor of Grayskull!”

It’s a standard army, and Catra isn’t too worried. She jumps, landing on the closest tank and driving her sword into it. The soldiers bail, and Catra gets away right before it explodes.

“Property damage!” Glimmer calls as she takes down a few soldiers.

“Yeah, yeah…”

One soldier aims their gun at Catra; she transforms the sword into a shield, deflecting the blast, then rushing forward and shield bashing the hapless soldier. Bow pins one soldier down with green goop. Useful, Catra thinks as she disarms another, then jumps to another tank and takes out the barrel with a swipe of her claws. Glimmer grabs two soldiers and teleports them away.

It’s laughably easy, when all is said and done. The army quickly retreats, and Glimmer deals with the villagers while Bow and Catra tie up the captured soldier and dragging them out to the woods. Bow gets the honor of pulling off the soldier’s helmet.

“Lonnie.” Catra laughs. “Long time no see.”

“Not long enough,” Lonnie grumbles, glaring at her. “You still look fucking stupid.”

“And you look like a hostage,” Catra replies, changing back but keeping the sword slung over her shoulder. Just in case. “This was a terrible attack. What happened?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“In honor of a lifelong friendship?” Lonnie scoffs in response. Catra grins back humorlessly. “How about because you’re our prisoner and you don’t have much of a choice?”

Glimmer appears beside Bow, tilting her head when she sees Lonnie. “How’s it going?”

“I think they’re reuniting.”

Catra ignores them both. “Look, Lonnie, I’m not gonna lie, I don’t particularly care what’s going on. But if you guys are gonna be a pain in the ass, that’s unfortunately my business. So just answer the questions and make it easy on both of us.”

“Or what? You gonna take me to Shadow Weaver?”

Something dark flashes in Catra’s eyes; Glimmer grabs her as she clenches her fist, fully prepared to haul off and punch Lonnie. “Trust me,” she says through gritted teeth, “I don’t need Shadow Weaver’s help getting answers.”

She hears a rustling in the trees and whirls just as two figures emerge from the tree line. Kyle and Rogelio. Of course. “Seriously,” Catra mutters. “Do you three exist just to make my life miserable?”

They’ve both got guns pointed at her, although Kyle is shaking slightly. “Let her go.” His voice is _almost_ commanding. Almost. Catra laughs, transforming the sword into a shield.

“Or _what_? You’re gonna fight me?”

Rogelio grunts; Catra rolls her eyes. “No, big guy, I am definitely not _scared_ of you. Look, we’ll let Lonnie go if you answer our questions. Easy deal, right?”

Kyle lowers his gun slightly, conflicted. Rogelio makes a noise, nudging him. “I don’t want to fight them,” Kyle mutters in return.

“Seriously Kyle?” Lonnie demands, groaning. She’s ignored. Catra lowers the shield to her side, raising an eyebrow.

“We got a deal, then?” Kyle nods once. “Good. It’s been three months. Why the sudden attack?”

“We’re not sure.” Catra believes that. Kyle’s not a great liar. “Things have been kind of crazy every since the portal. Force Captain Scorpia was trying to keep everything under control, but she’s not… great at that. Then out of nowhere, Lord Hordak came out and said we still have a war to win. Force captains started getting squads organizes, and our first mission was Thaymor to test the waters.”

“Thaymor is way too easy of a target,” Catra mutters to Glimmer. “We might want to do something about that.” Louder, she says, “So Scorpia’s running the show now?”

“I don’t really… _know_. It seems more like Hordak is actually taking over.” That’s… odd. He’d let Shadow Weaver, then Adora, run the show for years. Why the sudden change?

“We’ve taken back a _lot_ of ground since the Horde went quiet,” Bow reminds Catra quietly. “If they start targeting everything again…”

Then they’re fucked. The Horde still has numbers on its side. Overwhelming attacks can make up for lack of competency, if necessary. Catra’s jaw clenches for a moment. “Fine,” she finally says, changing the shield to a dagger and dragging Lonnie up. She cuts the bindings and shoves her toward her squad mates. “Just get the fuck out of here.”

Lonnie is scowling, but Rogelio grabs her shoulder, and the trio disappears into the woods once more. “So Hordak wants to make a grand comeback,” Glimmer guesses, looking between Bow and Catra.

“He _did_ start the war,” Bow points out. “He had to do something before Shadow Weaver and Adora. Maybe he’s taking over again because he doesn’t have a choice.”

“He spent a few months pouting over the portal being a massive failure, then decided to jump back into it,” Catra summarizes darkly. “And now he wants a war again. Great. Fine. He wants a war, he’ll get a fucking war.”

Glimmer and Bow exchange uncertain looks. This is going to end poorly. “Maybe we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves,” Bow says slowly.

“Maybe we should get back to Bright Moon and tell Angella what’s going on,” Catra counters. She’s right, as much as they hate to admit it. Glimmer grabs both their arms and teleports them back to Bright Moon.

* * *

Everyone pretends they don’t hear the yelling coming from Hordak’s lab. It’s not just one person being subjected his wrath, at least — all the force captains are taking the brunt for the failed raid on Thaymor.

“That guy is _scary_ ,” Scorpia says in a high-pitched voice as she walks into Entrapta’s lab. The princess is sitting at her computer set up, typing rapidly. “Does he ever yell at you?”

“Sometimes,” Entrapta says, shrugging. “It’s not really _at_ me, though. More like about general circumstances in my vicinity.”

“I don’t know what he’s so angry about. It’s just Thaymor. It’s not like it’s anything important.”

“That might be why he’s mad,” Entrapta points out. “Thaymor is probably the weakest link — if you’re not capable of reclaiming that, then bigger ventures like a whole kingdom are far out of your reach.”

“Ouch.” She’s not wrong, though. Scorpia sighs, sitting on the floor and cradling her head in her pincers. “I’m not sure what he wants us to _do_ , though.”

“Well, he wants you to help him conquer the planet so he can present it to his brother when he opens the portal to bring Etheria back to the larger universe.”

“His… what?”

Oh, right. Scorpia doesn’t know about that. “It’s kind of a long story.”

Scorpia blinks a few times, tilting her head. “Okay. So we’re supposed to conquer the planet. But does he have a plan for that, or…?”

Entrapta shakes her head. “I didn’t really ask.” She’s still pretty sure she did the wrong thing by talking him into continuing the war, albeit accidentally. She’s accidentally encouraged a lot of bad things in the last year and a half.

“What’re you doing?” Scorpia asks after a moment, shaking Entrapta out of her thoughts.

“Exploring some theories.” Entrapta refocuses on the screens, frowning. She still has all the data from the portal. If she can figure out where they wrong…

She doesn’t want this to get back to Hordak, though. The portal is a touchy topic, for good reason. This is best kept to herself for now.

* * *

Their next trip to Mystacor is a few days later. Usually, Casta comes to Bright Moon to train with Glimmer, but they’ve managed to talk Catra into doing semi-regular meditation sessions with Meg in an attempt to at least work on _some_ of her problems. Which is more important now than ever if they’re going to fight a war.

“How’re you feeling?” Meg asks as she leads Catra into the meditation chamber.

“Fan-freaking-tastic,” Catra mutters. It’s a lie — she hasn’t been able to sleep in three days between nightmares and worrying about the Horde’s next move — but she doesn’t really expect Meg to believe her. “Let’s just… do this.”

Meg’s version of meditation is _way_ more exhausting than Perfuma’s. Catra knows there’s some magic at work, trying to help her redirect dark thoughts and anger into something more constructive, and she knows it’s necessary, but trying to reset the way her entire brain works is hard.

On the other hand, the sessions always guarantee that Catra will get some sleep that night. So that’s good, she supposes. Something to look forward to when she gets back to Bright Moon and collapses into bed.

_The Horde’s starting to move again. They’re going to fight back. Even if Hordak is a terrible leader, they still outnumber us. I can’t take an entire army on my own._

_You’re not on your own, though._ The voice that isn’t quite hers counters. A saner, more reasonable voice. What she could be, maybe. _You have the entire Princess Alliance._

_And a lot of fucking good that does me._

_You don’t mean that._

_Maybe I do! It’s not like they’ve been much good so far—_

_That’s not fair, and it’s not true. Take a breath. Step back._

She draws in a long breath, trying to relax her shoulders. Meditating always makes her so aware of how tense she is. How much she clenches her jaw. How _alert_ she is, ears constantly twitching like she’s waiting for something. Living with constant paranoia isn’t fun.

_Fine, they’re not useless. But I can’t depend on them, either. I can’t depend on anyone._

_Why not?_

_Because none of them have the same responsibilities. None of them are She-Ra. None of them are like me_.

Apparently the magic can’t even argue with that. Catra bites her tongue until she tastes blood, suddenly unable to sit still. She jerks upward, running her hands through her hair. “I can’t do this today,” she says stiffly, surprising Meg.

“What—”

“Just… I can’t. I’ll try again another day.”

She walks out without another word, leaving the befuddled healer behind her.

* * *

She needs to fight. She needs to work off some of this energy. She needs to _do something_.

Light Hope is more than happy to provide her with some bot simulations.

It’s not much, but it lets Catra move and swing the sword around a little and gives her some satisfaction as she slices through hologram after hologram. She skids to a halt, taking a deep breath and turning to look at Light Hope.

“So, what, are you just going to beat the emotions out of me?”

“Learning to control yourself is a strenuous process,” Light Hope says simply. “You must take time.”

Why does it feel like these conversations always go in circles? “You’re the one who told me I need to learn!” she says impatiently, grip on the sword tightening.

“I’ve also told you several times that you can not afford to waste time with others.” Stupid, overly logical AI. “If you were to simply stay—”

“I already told you, _no_ ,” Catra shoots back. “I need better company than this.”

“Then you must live with what I can teach you in the time you are here.”

She’s being _snarky_. Catra kicks at the air, looking around. “ _Fine_. Just give me more bots to fight.”

It’s not perfect, by any means. But it’s an outlet for the unending energy. The twitchiness. It’s an outlet for the _anger_. Sitting around and meditating isn’t doing any good. She’s not sure if this is, either. But she can _move_ , and that’s something. That’s better.

* * *

Angella stands in the door of her daughter’s room, watching her read what looks like a book on war tactics. She’s so much like her father. Too much sometimes. It scares Angella. Glimmer has more than proven herself capable, but… Micah had been capable as well. That isn’t always a guarantee that one will come home safely.

“Mom?”

Glimmer draws Angella’s attention back to reality. She smiles, sitting on the couch below the bed. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Glimmer tilts her head. It’s amazing how she can look so grown up and so child-like at the same time.

“ _Why are children fighting this war, Angella?”_

Because they’re the best hope the world has now, Angella thinks sadly. If she had been quicker, if she hadn’t spent so long mourning for Micah, hiding in Bright Moon… being a coward… maybe it would be different. Maybe she could have saved Glimmer from this burden. Or maybe it wouldn’t have mattered either way.

“I believe… you would make far better use of having more access to the Moonstone than I have.”

Glimmer blinks, eyes going wide as her mind runs through the implications of what Angella is saying. “Wait can… can you do that? Like, give it to me?”

“In a sense.” Angella smiles dryly. “I can… pull back on my bond, so to speak, and allow you more control.”

Which would allow her more power. Which would make it easier for her to fight. Children are fighting this war, and at this point, they’re the world’s best hope. The least Angella can do is give them everything they need to win.

Glimmer shrieks, disappearing and reappearing to throw her arms around her mother, hugging her tight. Angella laughs, patting her back. “When? Can we do it now? Like right now? Now now?”

Angella is trusting the universe now. She hopes it won’t let her down. “Yes, dear. We can do it now.”

* * *

It’s late. Entrapta is still sitting at her computer, looking through all her old records from the portal. There has to be something here. Science _always_ has the answer. They’re just harder to find sometimes.

Emily beeps a few times, reminding Entrapta that she should sleep. Entrapta smiles fondly, patting the bot. “I know, Emily. Don’t worry, I’ll go to sleep soon.”

Her ears aren’t sensitive enough to pick up on the faint shimmer of magic which breaks the room’s silence.

“Entrapta?”

She jumps, surprised, and turns to see Glimmer standing behind her. “Glimmer?” Entrapta tilts her head. Is it possible she’s fallen into another dimension? Unlikely, since all she’s done is sit here. But perhaps space was moving _around_ her. It was the only explanation for why Glimmer would be _here_ and not in Bright Moon. “Why’re you…?”

“I know this is weird,” Glimmer says quickly. “But I… I’ve been wonder if, you know, there’s… any way to save Adora.”

Definitely another dimension, Entrapta decides. “I wasn’t aware you cared that much about her.”

“I… don’t,” Glimmer admits. “But Catra does. Besides, she risked her life to save all of us, and to save the world. What kind of future queen would I be if I didn’t even _try_ to repay the favor?”

The logic tracks, Entrapta supposes. She looks back at her computer screen. “I’ve been sifting through our data, trying to figure out where the portal went wrong. Obviously there were anomalies I didn’t test for, but I wasn’t expecting the lever to be pulled when it was, either. If I could test it in a stable environment, with the right time and resources, I might be able to recreate it. But… I can’t say for sure it would work.”

“But you’ve been looking,” Glimmer says. Entrapta nods.

“Scorpia asked the other day, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Adora was good to me. I mean, she was kind of mean sometimes, and it was hard to have an intellectual conversation with her, but Scorpia is the same way. It’s not their fault.” Glimmer bites her tongue to keep from laughing. “I want to save her if we can.”

Glimmer nods. “So do I. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“We’re going to need tech. _Lots_ of First One tech.”

Lots of First One tech. Hoo boy. Okay. “We’ll figure something out. Send a message if you have any ideas. And don’t… tell anyone else about this, not right now. Except Scorpia, I guess, since she kind of already knows.”

“Why shouldn’t I tell people?”

Because it will break Catra if she finds out that bringing Adora back really is impossible. “Just don’t want anyone to get their hopes up, ya know?”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense,” Entrapta agrees. “Okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Glimmer smiles, relaxing slightly. “Are you… okay here? Staying safe?”

“I’m safer than anyone else. I never leave.”

That’s not necessarily a guarantee for safety, Glimmer thinks, but she lets it go. “Okay. Just… if you ever want out of this place… just say the word, okay? I know things have been complicated, and I’m so sorry you were left behind. But we have to stick together as much as we can now.”

If there’s one thing they’ve all learned, it’s to keep their friends close. Entrapta smiles a bit despite herself. “I think it’ll be easiest to do my research from here. But… thank you.”

“Standing offer,” Glimmer assures her. “I’ll see you later.”

Entrapta waves with a lock of hair as Glimmer disappears. This is certainly a turn of events, she thinks as she turns back to her screens, hair reaching for her recorder. She hit record.

“Operation saving Adora, log one. Glimmer approached me today about rescuing Adora. It’s surprising that she and Scorpia share similar goals, although for different reasons.” She tilts her head, humming for a moment. “The situation may be more complicated than I had originally anticipated. While staying in the Fright Zone no doubt allows me access to the technology I would need to even begin such a project…”

She pauses, fingers tapping absently against her keyboard for a long moment. “I’ve always followed the science. I’ve made so much progress working with the Horde, but for the first time, it’s come with a cost. A _real_ cost. Was it wrong to build the portal in the first place? If I had just had a little more time…”

That’s what she’s told herself, over and over, in the weeks that have passed. If she had run more tests, if she’d had just a little more time, maybe she could have predicted what would happen and stopped Catra and Adora. Or maybe they would have done it anyway. “Human emotion — or magicat emotion, in this case — is always an unpredictable factor, no matter how well thought out the science is. Perhaps I should have taken that into consideration before I built anything.”

Entrapta stares at her screens — her oldest friends — for a long moment before stopping the recording and lowering her face mask with a lock of hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you there would still be plenty of bad choices, right?  
> (also believe it or not there's a lot of important stuff here setting up for the future. I know it all seems random, but I promise it's not)


	12. Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _Don’t_.” There’s something raw in Catra’s voice. A pain that shouldn’t be experienced by someone so young. “Just don’t. This isn’t about… I’m She-Ra, right? So just let me be She-Ra, and let me do my job.”
> 
> “And what do you think that job is?”
> 
> Catra looks at her in disbelief. “What do you mean? I’m supposed to protect Etheria, aren’t I?”
> 
> “Yes, but at what cost?” Catra stares, uncomprehending. “How much are you willing to sacrifice in the name of protecting the planet?”
> 
> “That… That doesn’t matter.” Catra clenches her fists, frustrated. “None of that matters anymore.”
> 
> Besides, she’s already lost everything she can stand to lose. What’s left?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the Crimson Waste episode in season four was important for Perfuma's character development, and you can assume that aspect hasn't changed, but I wanted to focus on Catra instead of straight re-writing that whole bit, so....

“Wow, Sparkles,” Catra says dryly, leaning on Glimmer while she waits for the world to stop spinning. “Really working on that distance.”

“Does it get worse when we go further?” Bow asks curiously.

“I don’t know, it all just sucks.”

Catra rubs her eyes, straightening up. They’re not far from Plumeria, if her allergies are anything to go by — she barely muffles a sneeze, and shoots Bow a look that clearly says _make one comment and die_.

“Maybe Aunt Casta can help with that, too,” Glimmer says cheerfully.

“I don’t need a magical answer to everything,” Catra shoots back, frowning. She’s already wary enough of how much magic she’s allowing to mess with her head, completely out of her control. She doesn’t need more.

“Okay, okay. Yeesh, someone’s in a bad mood.”

Catra bites her tongue to keep from responding, taking a deep breath before slowly saying, “Can we just talk to Perfuma and get out of here?”

“What’s worse, this or the Crimson Waste?” Bow asks curiously.

“Absolutely this. At least nothing makes me sneeze in the Crimson Waste.”

“No, it just _tries to kill you_.” Glimmer rolls her eyes. “Why are you always so dramatic?”

“ _I’m_ dramatic? I swear, Sparkles—”

“Oh, visitors!” One of the Plumerians cuts off the insult and announces their arrival to the village. Catra lets Glimmer and Bow deal with that, arms wrapped around herself as she looks around. How can anyone stand to live here? She’s been in the trees for two minutes and she already wants to claw her nose off…

“Glimmer, Bow, Catra!”

And there’s Perfuma. She tugs Glimmer and Bow into a hug as she catches up to them, and Catra immediately backs away, ears down, trying to give off the clearest _do not touch_ signal she can. Perfuma gets it, thankfully.

“How are you guys?”

“We’re good, we actually need your help with something — is there anywhere private we can talk?”

“Of course.” Perfuma gestures for them to follow; they go further into the village, ducking into Perfuma’s hut. It’s somehow _worse_ than outside. Catra wrinkles her nose and muffles another sneeze.

 _I hate this place_.

“What can I do for you? Oh, do you want snacks?”

“No, we’re good—” Glimmer tries to say, but Perfuma is already going to the kitchen to get cookies. “We need your help with something.”

“My help?” Perfuma peaks out, tilting her head. “With what?”

“There’s an old First One’s ship in the Crimson Waste,” Bow explains. “We want to get it out of there before the Horde thinks to look for it. I don’t even want to think about what Entrapta could do with that much tech.”

Perfuma sets a plate of cookies in front of them, frowning deeply. “Yes, that is… troublesome. Do you really think I could help with that?”

“More useful than Bubbles or Snowflake,” Catra points out. “Water and ice don’t do well in overwhelming heat. Plants grow in the desert, right?”

“Cacti do,” Bow said. “What do you think, Perfuma?”

She thinks for a moment, then nods. “Let me make a few arrangements for while I’m away, and I’ll be happy to help you however I can.”

She leaves them to the cookies, going to find whoever she needs to find. Catra waits until she’s gone to look at Glimmer and Bow. “I know I made fun of Mermista and Frosta, but are you guys really sure Perfuma actually _can_ help with this? The Crimson Waste isn’t exactly a friendly place. Remember the snake?”

“Well, we’re gonna get Huntara too,” Glimmer says cheerfully, grabbing a cookie. “Hopefully. Between the two of them, we should be fine.”

“And we can teleport further now,” Bow adds. “Less walking, less snakes, more help. We’ll definitely be fine.”

“Ready when you all are,” Perfuma says as she dances back into the hut. “This should be a breeze.”

“A breeze,” Catra repeats, standing. “Right.”

Glimmer takes her hand, then Bow’s hand, and Bow takes Perfuma’s hand. And in a shower of sparkles, they’re standing outside a shady looking building. Catra leans on Glimmer until the world stops spinning, listening to the others debate.

“So… we should go in, right?”

“Maybe not all of us. We might stand out.”

The door opens, giving them a quick glance inside as a tall, green reptilian walks out. Definitely the kind of place a bunch of outlaws would hang out. The others would stand out like a sore thumb.

“You’re all useless,” Catra grumbles as she pushes herself off of Glimmer and heads inside, ignoring the protests behind her.

“Catra, wait—”

“She’s going to die!”

The door swings shut behind her. She rolls her eyes, looking around, and spots the darkest corner with the most people. She makes her way over — and is blocked by a purple-skinned goat lady.

 _Oh you have_ got _to be kidding me._

“What do you want, outsider?”

“I want you to get out of my way,” Catra says stiffly. “I don’t have time for this.”

The lady puffs her chest out, clearly trying to look tough. “You better _make_ time—”

“No.” Catra steps back and summons the sword, turning it to aim the edge at the lady’s neck. “ _You_ better get out of my way before I make good use of this sword, and a bad mess for the bartender to clean up.”

Dead silence follows. It’s broken by a chuckle as Huntara stands. “Down, kitty. I’m sure you’re not here to cause trouble.”

Catra glares at the goat lady, who immediately backs off, looking a bit paler now. Good. “You need better friends,” she informs Huntara shortly.

“We can’t all have of a princess glued to us. What do you want?”

“ _I_ want to go home. The princess wants to talk to you.”

Huntara huffs under her breath, but follows Catra back out to the desert. Glimmer and Bow let out a sigh of relief when they see Catra, alive and unharmed.

“Kitty cat says you all need a favor? Don’t you owe me enough already?” The words are mostly joking.

“One more thing?” Glimmer says hopefully. “We need help getting that ship you led us to out of the Wastes before the Horde thinks to go after it.”

Huntara tilts her head, thinking for a moment. “I suppose I could use some time outta this place,” she says thoughtfully, eyes sweeping over the group. Her eyes fall on Perfuma. “Oh, you’re a new one. Sure this place isn’t a little rough for you, Flower Girl?”

Perfuma frowns, looking offended. “I can handle myself just fine, thank you. And it’s Perfuma.”

“I call her Flower Power,” Catra says helpfully. “Has a better ring to it.”

“Catra, stop trying to corrupt people,” Glimmer says, rolling her eyes. “Let’s just get to the ship and get it out of here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

* * *

“Why couldn’t you have just teleported this thing home?”

“Because I’m not _that_ strong,” Glimmer grumbles, staring up at the ship. “Yet. But we don’t have time for me to get that strong. The Horde knows this is here, and they have a princess who knows how to make weapons out of First Ones’ tech.”

“She’d probably be able to use this to destroy the planet,” Bow adds unhelpfully. Huntara shakes her head.

“You princesses and your weird powers…”

“Hey, don’t lump me in with them,” Catra complains.

“Don’t _you_ turn into a giant woman with a magic sword?”

“Not the point.”

Perfuma is lagging behind them slightly, looking around. Catra starts on to the ship, while Glimmer teleports to a nearby cliff to get a better view, and Huntara patrols around the outside. Bow starts to follow Catra, but stops when Perfuma still doesn’t follow. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yes. No.” She sighs. “I’m no good with cacti.”

“How do you know? You haven’t even—”

“Yes, I have!” Bow is surprised by the outburst. “I’ve tried to keep cacti before but they’re so… so prickly and harsh and unfriendly.”

“Glimmer said the same thing about Catra when we met her,” Bow points out with a chuckle. “Actually, she _still_ says the same thing about Catra.”

“I just don’t understand them.”

“Catra?” Perfuma stares at Bow for a moment. “Cacti. Right. I mean… even prickly things have a soft side, right? You just have to find it.”

“But they’re _so_ difficult. How am I supposed to work with something like that?”

Bow looks at her, then toward Huntara, then up at Glimmer, then at the ship. “You figure out ways to deal with it.”

Catra stares at the chair in the middle of the control room. The hologram is gone, but she can still see Mara sitting in the chair.

“ _If you open a portal, death and destruction will follow. For the good of the universe, Etheria must stay in Despondos._ ”

She should have listened. Why didn’t she listen?

_Because you’re selfish. Because you’re a coward. Because you wanted to run away from your responsibilities. Because you never should have been trusted with power in the first place. Because—_

“Shut _up_!” She punctuates the words with a kick to the chair.

“Usually people wait until after I say something to yell that,” Huntara jokes from the door. Catra turns to look at her, surprise, her ears drooping.

“Sorry, that wasn’t… it’s been long day. Month. Year. Life. Etc.” She waves her hands for emphasis. “Something wrong?”

“I think Flower Girl is having a bit of a meltdown at the boy, but no one’s comin’ to attack us if that’s what you’re askin’.

There’s no one left to do that. Adora’s the only person who’s ever cared about chasing Catra. Although that’s probably not what Huntara means. “Yeah. Cool.”

She drops into the seat, curling her legs up to her chest and hiding her face in her knees. “Am… I interrupting something?” Huntara asks uncertainly. She’s not exactly the feelings type; Catra can tell she’s trying to decide whether or not to get Bow.

“I’d say a mental breakdown, but that’s been happening since I was fourteen.” Catra laughs humorlessly. “You were in the Horde, right? You leave anyone behind?”

“A few friends. No one like Blondie.” Catra’s head snaps up. “Don’t be so surprised.” Huntara snorts. “You two weren’t exactly subtle.”

“It’s not like — look, we were raised by Shadow Weaver.”

“Eugh.” Even Huntara sounds disturbed by that. Good. She knows what Catra means.

“Yeah. It sucked.” Catra sighs, standing. “Doesn’t matter now, I guess.”

“Matters if it’s still in your head,” Huntara replies flatly. “Distracted soldiers get people killed.”

Huntara doesn’t know what happened. Catra knows she’s not taking a personal shot at her. Not purposely, anyway.

And yet it still hurts. It still sends flashes of Adora’s stupid, hopeful face through her mind as she declares that she can fix everything — all the mistakes _Catra_ made — if she just does this one thing. If she just sacrifices herself for everyone. Stupid, dumb, heroic Adora.

Her ears go flat against her head, her fists clenching for a moment before she moves, walking passed Huntara. She’s not prepared for the hand that grabs her shoulder, pulling her back. “What’re you—”

“I can tell you’re out of your head, kitty,” Huntara informs her flatly, jabbing a finger at her. “You’re not going to do anyone any good if you start breaking down.”

Catra narrows her eyes at Huntara, yanking her shoulder away. “I’m _fine_ ,” she informs the woman flatly. “And I don’t need you telling me what to do, thanks.”

“ _Someone_ needs to tell you what to do. And I have a feeling the princesses are a bit too soft for you.”

“Fuck off. I’m going to find out if we’re any closer to moving this thing.”

She storms away without another word, knowing Huntara is letting her walk away. The bigger woman could have held her back to argue if she really wanted. But cats have claws. And Huntara knows better than to provoke one that’s already angry.

“Any luck out here?” Catra calls as she steps back out into the blazing sun. The look on Perfuma’s and Bow’s faces says no. “Great. Well—”

“Incoming!” Glimmer calls before reappearing beside them. “Nothing big, looks like a few bandits or something. Someone must have let it slip that it’s open season on the ship.”

“Oh good, just when I thought today was going to be a wash,” Catra says dryly, summoning the sword. “At least I can get a little exercise. You guys deal with this. I’ll deal with them.”

“Hang on, shouldn’t you—”

Too late. “For the honor of Grayskull!”

“Let her do her thing,” Huntara says with a shrug, turning back to the ship. “It’s not going to hurt anyone.”

“It might hurt the people she’s about beat up.”

They get the ship out of the Waste eventually. And the thugs limp back to town with a new story to tell about getting beaten half to death by She-Ra, as well as a threat from Huntara to get out of her town before sun down.

* * *

“Can’t we move a little faster?” Glimmer asks impatiently. Casta raises an eyebrow.

“You can’t rush learning magic, Glimmer. It’s a tricky thing. Mistakes can be fatal.”

“I know, I _know_.” Glimmer sighs, throwing her hands up. “But there _has_ to be more I can do _now_.”

Castaspella frowns. “Is something wrong?”

 _Everything_ is wrong. How can she even ask that? They’re at war! It must be nice to live in Mystacor, to not be caught in the middle of all this. “The Horde is trying to take back ground again. Everyone is working so hard, and I… hate that it feels like there’s nothing I can do to help.”

“I understand,” Casta says. “But you won’t help anyone if you rush into something you’re not ready for, either.”

“I _know_.” Glimmer slumps, staring at the ground. “I know.”

“ _You think of yourself only as a princess. But you’re the child of a great sorcerer. You have a more powerful connection to magic than you’ve ever realized._ ”

The words echo in her head. She frowns for a long moment before standing. Casta looks up, surprised. “Are we done already?”

“I should get back and make sure Catra hasn’t gone off and started another war with someone. She’s been kind of… twitchy lately.”

“Meg’s been asking about her. Try to get her to come back for another session.”

“I will.” Glimmer smiles, kissing her aunt’s cheek. “See you later.”

—————————————————————————————————

Shadow Weaver is still in the castle. Catra _knows_ Shadow Weaver is still in the castle, and will literally climb walls to avoid going within a thousand feet of her door. Which is how Glimmer knows she won’t be overheard by sensitive ears when she teleports into the room.

“Ah, Princess.” The sorceress sounds amused. “What can I do for you? Did Catra give the sword to another warlord?”

Glimmer ignores that. “You taught my dad, didn’t you?”

“I did. He was _extremely_ gifted. A shame that power went to waste for a world that would never understand him.”

This is a terrible idea. Glimmer takes a deep breath. “Can you teach me too?”

For once, Shadow Weaver is shocked into silence. “I don’t have time to go slow and learn the way Aunt Casta wants me to. There’s a war going on and I need to be strong enough to help.”

“Don’t you think you owe me enough favors, Princess?”

“Consider it an exchange for me convincing Catra not to cut your throat open in your sleep,” Glimmer replies icily. Shadow Weaver scoffs.

“I don’t need you to protect me from that filthy mongrel.”

“I’m _not_ protecting you, I’m trying to help _her_. You just happen to benefit,” Glimmer said impatiently. “Are you going to do this, or just keep jerking me around?”

Shadow Weaver considers it for a long moment… then smiles under her mask. “Okay. I’ll train you. But we do things _my_ way.”

Glimmer already doesn’t like the sound of that. “Fine,” she grits out. “As long as your way doesn’t involve trying to escape.”

“Don’t worry, my dear princess. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

* * *

Another village, another Horde attack. Another day.

“There’s a lot of them. We can’t just—” Catra bolts out of the bushes, ignoring Glimmer entirely. “ _Catra_! Hang on!”

She’s already running at a tank, slicing through it with ease. Glimmer groans, teleporting to back her up, and Bow grabs an arrow. No plan, then. That’s fine.

Catra falls into an easy rhythm — hit a soldier, move to the next one. The hilt of the sword or even her elbow both make for good, blunt objects to break through the helmets with. She twists and twirls, dodging two green energy shots, and swings the sword, cutting both guns in half. The soldiers holding them have no time to react before she grabs one and throws them into the other. Bots are starting to advance; Catra turns to them, readying her sword, and runs. They’re machines. She can hack away with no remorse.

_Entrapta might disagree with that._

_Then Entrapta should stop building tech for the fucking Horde_.

Her muscles are burning, her arms aching with every swing, and it feels _good_. The adrenaline rush from the battle around her is amazing. She doesn’t care about anything, she doesn’t hurt. All that matters is slicing each and every one of these bastards to pieces.

“Catra, behind you!”

She barely registers Bow yelling her name, and then a hand is grabbing her, pulling her away from the chaos. Teleporting isn’t _as_ bad with She-Ra, but Catra still leans over to rest her hands on her knees and groan. The teleporting and the very sudden adrenaline drop are making her head spin.

“What’d you pull me away for?” she demands, pulling her arm from Glimmer’s hand.

“I was trying to save you from getting _impaled_!” She emphasizes the word with a finger jab at a robot Bow has just hit an exploding arrow with. “Were you paying attention at all?”

“Of course I was! I had everything under control.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Guys,” Bow calls, interrupting the fight. “The Horde’s retreating. Do we wanna follow, or…?”

Glimmer and Catra glare at each other for a moment before letting it go. “No,” Glimmer grumbles. “Let’s just help the villagers clean up.”

“Oh, am I allowed to do that?” Catra asks through gritted teeth.

“Can you not?” Glimmer shoots back. “We’ll… talk about this later, okay?”

“Sure, fine.” Catra turns away, heading into the village. “Whatever.”

She lets Bow and Glimmer do most of the talking with people, busying herself with moving rubble and salvaging homes where she can. She’s not sure _why_ she’s so frustrated with everything. But it’s like a constant thrumming in her head, driving her absolutely insane. Nothing seems to calm it.

And she doesn’t know what to do.

* * *

“There isn’t really any… _pattern_ to the attacks,” Glimmer says uncertainly, looking over the table. “I don’t understand what they’re trying to do.”

“Push the line and see where they can break through?” Bow suggests. Catra rests her cheek against her fist, staring at the table in disinterest.

“Hordak isn’t that smart. Unless he’s picked up another second-in-command, and I can’t think of one person who’s even slightly qualified for that.”

“Maybe that’s why the attacks haven’t been that bad. They’re engaging to test us, then falling back when they get what they need to know,” Bow says. “If they think they can find a blind spot in our defenses…”

Glimmer scoffs. “They _won’t_.”

“I know, but _if_. The best way to figure it out is to…”

Bow waves a hand at the table. “Use pawns to test the front lines,” Catra finishes the thought. “Then focus everything where they think it’s weakest and try to break us down.”

“They’re trying to bring the fight to us,” Angella concludes softly.

“They managed it once, with Adora,” Catra says, muttering her friend’s name. “It’s possible Hordak learned a few things about leading while he had her around. But he can’t recreate her exact strategy without messing up the Whispering Woods again, so he has to find his own way in.”

“So what do we do to stop it?” Bow asks, looking between the women.

“We could bring the fight to them instead of waiting,” Catra says darkly. “No one knows the Fright Zone or the Forge better than I do.”

“The Horde still has numbers against us,” Angella points out. “All that knowledge is useless if you’re overwhelmed.”

Catra snorts. “Please. I could take them alone.”

“I would rather not test that.” Angella is trying to be reasonable, but there’s a stiffness in her tone. It hasn’t escaped her notice that Catra’s been more careless with her life — with everything — since the portal. “We can rest on it, for now. You all did good work today.”

Glimmer perks up a bit, exchanging looks with Bow, and they both grin. Catra isn’t nearly as enthused. “Cool.” She stands to leave.

“Actually, Catra, could I have a word?”

Glimmer and Bow take that for the dismissal it is, and quickly leave. Catra looks back at Angella, jaw clenched. “What?”

Angella considers asking her to sit, then decides against it. “Castaspella mentioned you were seeing a healer in Mystacor.” Of fucking course she did. “Have you been back there recently?”

Catra huffs, running her hands through her hair. “I don’t need a healer or meditation, okay?” she grits out between her teeth. “I just need to _do_ something.”

“And how many soldiers will you have to take down before you realize you’re not going to find what you’re looking for in fighting?”

Her ears twitch, tail moving sharply back and forth. “I’m not _looking_ for anything.”

Angella sighs inwardly. She’s about to go into a risky territory, and she knows it. “When I lost Micah—”

“ _Don’t_.” There’s something raw in Catra’s voice. A pain that shouldn’t be experienced by someone so young. “Just don’t. This isn’t about… I’m She-Ra, right? So just let me be She-Ra, and let me do my job.”

“And what do you think that job is?”

Catra looks at her in disbelief. “What do you mean? I’m supposed to protect Etheria, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but at what cost?” Catra stares, uncomprehending. “How much are you willing to sacrifice in the name of protecting the planet?”

“That… That doesn’t matter.” Catra clenches her fists, frustrated. “None of that matters anymore.”

Besides, she’s already lost everything she can stand to lose. What’s left?

Angella regards her sadly, but lets it go. “Please go back to Mystacor. I think it would be good for you to have some time for yourself.” Catra opens her mouth to argue. “I’ll make it an order, if I have to,” Angella threatens. Catra deflates slightly.

“ _Fine_.”

* * *

Meg is pleased when Catra returns. They go to their usual room, settling in. “Are you okay?” the healer asks, cocking her head. Catra laughs bitterly.

“I haven’t been okay since I was five. Maybe four.”

She’s thankful Meg doesn’t try to question that. “Let’s begin, then.”

Catra takes a deep breath, tail settling behind her, and closes her eyes.

“ _And how many soldiers will you have to take down before you realize you’re not going to find what you want in fighting?_ ”

The question has been bothering since the meeting. She had told Angella she isn’t looking for anything, but that isn’t necessarily true, is it? She knows exactly what she wants — peace. Not for the kingdom or the planet, but for herself. Her own, selfish peace. She wants all of this to be over, she wants Adora back, she wants to have never found that damn sword in the first place…

She wants the world she had in the portal.

The idea of being _Princess Catra_ makes her cringe, but she can’t deny that her life had been so much better in the portal. No Horde, no Shadow Weaver, no war. Engaged to Adora, which was a little weird, but it’s not like she’s completely oblivious; she’s loved Adora since they were kids, since she was old enough to comprehend such complicated feelings. She also knew that Adora had never and would never feel the same way. Shadow Weaver had seen to that. But they had been _happy_ in the portal. It felt like Adora really had loved her.

But, like all good things, it hadn’t been meant to last. Catra’s life had been built on an unstable foundation of bad treatment, bad choices, and bad behavior. It had built its way out of the shadows that threatened to consume it every single day, built toward a light that could never be obtained. Of course it would all fall apart.

She’s never been good enough for anything else.


	13. Interlude II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How's Adora doing these days?

“Do you think…”

Catra looks up at Adora as her voice drifts off. They’re spending a few days in Bright Moon, celebrating Glimmer’s and Bow’s engagement (and collecting on some bets; Mermista is too pessimistic sometimes), and currently enjoying a quiet moment in the gardens, watching the night sky. Adora’s lived in Half Moon for so long, she’d almost forgotten they’re nocturnal. It’s weird to be awake when the rest of the world is asleep.

“Do I think what?” Catra prompts. She’s lying on the grass with her head in Adora’s lap, bright eyes watching her wife curiously.

“Never mind,” Adora says quickly, ducking her head. Catra reaches up to poke her forehead.

“Don’t do that,” she protests, frowning. “Talk to me.”

“It’s dumb.” Catra raises an eyebrow, unmoved by the argument. “Angella just, um… she and your mom were talking, and she said something about grandchildren, and…”

Adora blushes, wishing she could hide her face further. Catra, to her credit, doesn’t laugh. She looks almost thoughtful. “Is that… something you want? Kids, I mean?”

 _Yes_. It’s something Adora’s been thinking about for a long time, if she’s honest. They’ve been married for three years, and there’s no rush, but Adora swears she gets a pang of longing every time she sees a baby in the village.

“Can we even do that?”

Catra snorts, rolling her eyes. “ _Yes,_ Adora, we can have a baby. We’re adults, we can mostly do whatever we want.”

Adora shoves her lightly. “I mean, like… you and me. Is that possible?”

“I’m not sure,” Catra admits. “My moms had me, but they’re both Magicats, so it’s different. We won’t know unless we ask, though. Do you _want_ to ask?”

The question is pointed. There are only two acceptable answers. “Yes,” Adora whispers after a moment. It feels so weird, so selfish to admit out loud, that she _wants_ something. And not something particularly insignificant, at that. Having a child, a family… that’s a _lot_.

Catra is smiling softly, raising a hand to cup Adora’s cheek. “I do too,” she says. The three words light a fire in Adora’s chest. She feels warm in the best possible way — in ways _only_ Catra can ever make her feel.

“Would our kid look more like a magicat?”

“I think so,” Catra says, tugging Adora down to kiss her. “You just want to know if they’ll have cat ears, don’t you?”

Adora blushes furiously, but refuses to look away. She’s made no secret of how absolutely adorable she thinks Catra’s ears are. She’s also the only person who’s allowed to get away with it, and she knows it. “Maybe.”

Catra laughs, gently head-butting Adora’s stomach. “Cross-species relationships aren’t exactly common, so we’ll get what we get. But I’m pretty sure our genetics are stronger. We’ll probably end up with a little furball who has ears and a tail.”

“That’s… That’s _so_ …” Adora bounces slightly, trying not to scream in delight.

“ _Cute_?” Adora nods furiously. “Do you want to squeal?” Another nod. Catra laughs, a deep purr in her chest. Adora swoops in to kiss her again, her hair falling to frame their faces.

“I love you,” she whispers against Catra’s lips. “I love you so much.”

Catra’s hand snakes up to rest against the back of Adora’s neck. “I love you too.” Her eyes shine in the darkness. Adora brushes her fingers through Catra’s hair, scritching the base of her ears. “So. Do we want to wait until we get home to talk to my moms, or steal the spotlight?”

“I think we can wait,” Adora says with a small laugh. “Let Glimmer and Blow have their time.”

“Uuuuuuuuugh, fine.” Catra rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “This just means everyone will have to come to Half Moon when I… or I mean, if one of us…”

 _She’s_ blushing now. Adora tries not to smirk. “Do _you_ want to be the one to carry?”

Catra’s ears flatten against her head. She looks away. “Kind of,” she admits quietly. “I… I’ve thought about this, you know. And the idea of carrying the baby just… it _feels_ right.”

Adora again feels selfish for the relief. She may have been the first to bring it up, but the idea of being pregnant seems absolutely _terrifying_ to her. And Catra looks… weirdly at peace with all of it. Like she’s already made her a choice and had been hoping Adora would be okay with it.

And she is. She’s more than okay with it. Maybe she’ll feel better about the idea after Catra — there’s no reason they have to stop at one kid, after all. The idea of a bundle of small kits with their various features mixed together to make a completely unique being made Adora want to cry from the pure joy.

“How many kids do you want?” Catra asks with a smirk. She really can read minds. Adora is certain of it.

“I don’t know. I mean, your moms stopped at one—”

“They got it right on the first try,” Catra says with a shrug. “Heterochromia is supposedly a symbol of good luck, you know.”

“Really?” Adora asks, tilting her head.

“According to some old legends. I don’t know. Mama knows the entire story if you want to ask her about it. Might be the only explanation for how I got you.”

Adora laughed, brushing back Catra’s hair. “Sap.”

“Your sap.”

“My _wife._ ”

“Damn straight.”

Catra is smiling as she closes her eyes, snuggling closer to Adora, purring contently. “Guess we should try and sleep,” she says dreamily. “Gotta get on this weird _day_ schedule everyone around here is so fond of.”

“There are some perks to it,” Adora points out. Sometimes she misses the daylight. Not enough to want any major changes — visits to Bright Moon work just fine to fulfill her needs.

“Too bright, too many people, no thanks,” Catra says. She’s showing no signs of moving. Adora smiles, raising an eyebrow.

“Am I carrying you to bed?” A loud purr answers her. Adora smiles, tucking one arm under her knees and wrapping the other around her back, standing easily. Catra snuggles into her, smiling.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at https://catrasredemption.tumblr.com/ to yell at me or ask me questions (I might answer!)
> 
> I've added a new page to my tumblr all about the magicatra au: https://catrasredemption.tumblr.com/magicat I'll be expanding more on things as I go, but if you're curious, check it out!


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